Skyscraper Graveyard IC: Renaissance City

[Thanqol]

Speramus Meliora; Resurget Cineribus - Detroit City Motto


Skyscraper Graveyard

OOC Thread 1 (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=247130)
OOC Thread 2: Jealousy and Ambition (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=256765)
OOC Thread 3: A Sword On His Back (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=263257)
OOC Thread 4: Lack Of Data (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=285428)
OOC Thread 5: Gradually, Then Suddenly (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=303616)

IC Thread 1: Renaissance City (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=249134)
IC Thread 2: Simple Choices (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=265809)
IC Thread 3: THIS IS YOUR GOD (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=307506)


1/9/2015

Something big is going down. The city can feel it in it's bones.

The ley lines of Detroit are twisted, fractured and broken. Like rivers polluted with garbage, twisted resonances and Abyssal fractures. The wellsprings are dry; the life and light and power that brings Mana into the world are decrepit. The city's concrete heart isn't beating, and blood moves turgidly through it's decaying veins.

And then something big happened.

It was like a bolt of lightning hitting the heart of the city, sending out a shockwave of mana which briefly surged through the ley lines and, for a minute, jolted the city alive. Some power from the Supernal just found a vector in the mortal world. It could be an artifact, a spell, a spirit, an Awakening - whatever it is, it's something that anyone with an eye on the city and an understanding of Prime magic would be able to notice immediately.

Almost as soon as it happened, Errant appeared outside the Renaissance's skyscraper and gave Turing a folder labelled "Cyprus: The Golden Gloved Archon" with the attached note "She is coming to town to secure whatever just happened. Get to it first." That Errant didn't move through any usual channels or proxies is a pretty big indicator that this is serious.

Tracing the shockwave back to it's source is relatively simple - it lead to a large stone church. It's in the middle of an active construction site, fenced off and with a few private security guys milling around near the entrance. Demolition is extremely common in Detroit, but it's rare to see construction work like this. The sound of hammering and machinery fills the air.

The place is soaked in tass. There's an air of Reality about the place, sunk into every stone. Whatever happened happened here.

[Anarion]

As Errant makes her way out, leaving Turing with the dossier, the elevator opens up and Tessen steps out to the first floor. She's got on a pair of khakis and a light pink sweater, since there's a bit of chill in the air. Her hair is loose, however, and falls down in a bright red cascade all around her back and down almost to her knees. There's also a very small grease stain on her cheek, that she is probably not aware of.

"Turing, good news. I got the elevators sped up a bit. And, they should close consistently now, even when I'm not there to make the electricity work right." *She beams widely* "Um, you, uh, still probably shouldn't go to the 27th or 28th floors though. They, er, might be liable to collapse in under too much weight."

*Looks at the dossier with the really odd symbol at the top*

"Oh, was someone here. I didn't realize, how rude of me. What did they drop off?"

[Deadly]

Moments after Errant had left and Tessen arrived out of the elevator, Amun could be seen jogging towards the tower, his suitcase bumping along behind him. It wasn't a hurried run, that would draw attention, it was just the sort of casual gait that someone might engage in for a bit of good ol' exercise. That it happened to get you somewhere faster than walking was just a happy coincidence.

His hair appeared wilder than usual, as if his luggage contained a Van de Graaff generator. Perhaps it did. Otherwise he looked not much different from any other day.

He came to a halt and said casually, "Pleasant day, innit? What's going on?" The casual tone betrayed a sense of urgency. As if what he meant to say was "Holy ****, something just happened!!! Did you feel it too?!" He glanced down at the folder in Turing's hands.

[the_druid_droid]

Turing was standing outside by the door, smoking a cigarette. When Errant appeared, he quickly stubbed it out and his pose straightened; it wasn’t a salute, not exactly, but the respect it conveyed was clear. He took the folder, skimmed the note, and gave a clipped nod as Errant departed.

With a flick of his finger, he broke the seal and moved into the lobby to read through the dossier, sheltered from the wind. He was still leafing through the file on Cyprus when Tessen appeared. At first, it seemed like he hadn’t heard her.

“That was Errant; don’t worry about the pleasantries. Something big - sh*t, make that really big is going down,” here he paused to look up at the other mage, “I think we’re all going to need to be in on this one, if you’re up for it. Do you know where Amun is?”

The question was answered for him by their cabal-mate’s arrival, and Turing hurried out the doors to meet him on his way.

In answer to Amun's greeting, he frowned. “Not entirely sure, but I think it’s going to get a lot less pleasant,” Turing waved the envelope, “Errant was just here and we may have even more company really soon. I don’t know if this is a Guardian thing proper, but if you want to come along, I could really use the company.” Amun could make out the request in his voice, although he cringed a little at the thought of dragging his friends into a Seer operative’s sights.

“If you’re interested, look through this, then do me a favor and burn it.” He held up the now-open envelope like an invitation, and readjusted his glasses with a free hand while he prepared to view the world with Grim Sight.

[Roll for casting Grim Sight, 1 success. Prime would probably be better suited, but he doesn’t have that Arcanum yet; it’s on the list. If Death doesn’t help any, he’ll either follow the others or ask a ghost]

[Anarion]

Tessen takes a look at the dossier. "Cyprus, the golden-gloved archon" she muses aloud. "Let me just..." *she takes out her pocketbook and writes down Cyprus's name and title, as well as beginning to make a sketch of the person shown in the image, in the case the name isn't enough to identify her properly.

Name and image written in fated pocketbook. Tessen should learn at least one theme or connection related to Cyprus (or to whoever she's drawing if that's not really Cyprus).

[Thanqol]

When one pressed the pen against a page, it left an imprint on the opposite side of the paper. Most of the time these imprints were just mirror-image reflections of what you'd written on the previous page. With this notebook they were something more.

The words that appeared were, "[I]Fear obliterates even the search for truth. Fear of something terrible is a form of faith."

[Anarion]

Tessen looks at the dossier and back to the words that appear in the notebook, and reads them aloud. Her other hand is playing with her hair ornament for today, a ruby and teal Anna's hummingbird that she twists left and right nervously as she's reading.

She closes her eyes and lets out a deep breath. Fear obliterates the search for truth. Does that apply to her...or to me?. "I guess, if you want the company, I'll come." When she opens her eyes, the pattern of the supernal is laid out before her, threads and weaves stretching out across the whole city, connecting everyone and everything so strongly she could almost reach out and pluck the strings. She looks towards the source of the shockwave.
[activated supernal vision]

[Thanqol]

Tracking the path of mana towards the church was an exceedingly simple thing. There was no subtlety, refinement or control in whatever had just been done.

It was a fairly long walk, though. It'd be at least two hours on foot.

[Anarion]

"Oh, no. I can see it, b-but it's halfway across the city and none of us know how to teleport. If something's happening now, we'll never get there in time."

[the_druid_droid]

“Goddammit!” Turing’s features were clouded by frustration at the failure of his Mage Sight and Tessen’s news.

Then, after thinking for a moment, he turned to address Amun. “Please tell me you’ve got a feeling that a taxi’s coming. Or really any sort of mass transit crazy enough to take us there; I’m not picky.”

If Amun’s influence over fate failed them too, they would have to think seriously about borrowing a car; he hoped Alchemy might be enough to fix up one of the many abandoned vehicles in the city long enough to get them there...

[Deadly]

Amun read the report quickly after Tessen was done with it, then pulled out an old plastic lighter, the cheap kind you get thrown at you for practically free if not actually free. It looked like it had been used frequently to open bottles and similar tasks. He set about setting fire to the paper.

He nodded at Turing and looked distracted, muttering a little to himself. To anyone else on the street it might look like he was warming up to go into rambling madman mode and would be worth avoiding. Amun was good at giving that impression, possibly the burning paper in his hands helped. "Yeah," he said, "in my experience you can't walk ten feet without the risk of getting hit by one. In fact I think I hear one over there," he said, throwing the burning paper away before it burned his fingers, and pointed.

Sure enough, a cab was rounding the corner down the road just then.

[Improvising, Dice pool 3: 9, 6, 10, ten again 1, 2 successes, not too shabby]

[Thanqol]

The cabbie was an extremely twitchy, and dangerously thin black guy. He had a lot of needle marks on his arms and the hollows under his eyes that indicated that he was a recovering drug addict. On the dashboard was a photograph of two small girls.

"Where to?" he said.

[Anarion]

"We're going to a church across town. The um, oh, what was the name of it?"

Raw intelligence roll to remember the name of the church. [roll0]

[Thanqol]

[You don't know where you're going yet; you haven't seen the church yet. All you know is 'Thataway'. I included the description of the church in the intro to give you the option to start having arrived]

The driver nodded vaguely, chewing heavily on gum. He punched the gas, heading right along the ley lines.

[Anarion]

[Oh, I thought when you mentioned it following the supernal vision description, it meant that the threads were so strong, Tessen could see right to it.]

Tessen leans to the side, looking out the window at the threads and directing the cab driver to follow the proper streets. She's barely paying attention where they're going, just following the strongest threads in as direct a route as possible to their origin.

[the_druid_droid]

Turing clapped Amun on the back, or more accurately, on the thick layer of clothing that covered his back.

"You have a nose for these things, my friend. I appreciate it."

When the cab arrived, he piled in with the others, but grew quiet as Tessen began giving out directions. The file Errant had given him had mostly concerned Cyprus, which might mean that even the Epopt didn't have a lot to go on regarding the recent disturbance...

At the very least, they didn't have much to go on, and so they would need to make a point of figuring out what the score was before heading in.

Turing sighed; he really wanted a cigarette.

[Deadly]

"An ear," Amun corrected with a jolly grin and got in the car. It wasn't too often he got to ride a cab, but the situation didn't allow for much enjoyment of the ride. Something big was going down, and things could get very ugly if they weren't careful.

He leaned back, letting Tessen do the directions while he considered the information in the folder, and the ley lines and trails they were following. Maybe as they got closer there would be something, a clue to what had happened or what they were after. His hand played idly with a small die as he concentrated.

[Supernal Vision, just because Amun likes to follow along with Tessen]

[Thanqol]

[Oh, I thought when you mentioned it following the supernal vision description, it meant that the threads were so strong, Tessen could see right to it.]

[No, supernal vision doesn't work that way I'm sorry. My mistake for parsing it badly]

A construction site was a fascinating thing for a lot of reasons to a group of Mages, no matter what magic they favoured.

To the Obrimos, it was at once a location of tremendous power and utter devastation, and yet all those terrible forces were working in concert to create. The roar of engines destroyed the land, the pounding of hammers shattered wood and crushed nails into place, shouts and short wave radio signals co-ordinated the terribly complex network of violence that was necessary to create something enduring. A single slip of any of these forces and someone would die. Only the most incredible precision, intelligence and control stopped this scene from being a bloodbath. Only faith and humanity would make this a place of worship.

To a Moros, it was a moment of potential. Less raw power than an empty plot of land or a newly-burned ruin of a building, but the actions occurring here would nonetheless outlast any of these workmen. Each time a stone was cut it took away from what the church could be and settled it into what it would be. The dreams and ideals and imagination that had designed it were dying, being born, manifesting, solidifying into an external shell. After the church was done, what the church could have been would would be dead. Was that a bad thing? That question didn't come into it. This moment only had power because it was finite.

To an Acanthus, it was a beginning and an ending both. A thousand stories told the tale of this church. The path that lead the boy to becoming an architect, the visit to Rome that made him want to build a church, the one in a million chance that secured him the funding to make this happen in the rotting heart of Detroit. Other stories overlapped; the story of the city, which hoped that this act of defiance would somehow turn things around. The story of the foreman, who'd forgotten his lunch and was angry and would take it out by yelling for speed which would cause one of the workers to fall and almost break his neck and laugh it off later at the pub and never admitting that at the time he had been so scared. A million stories happened, happening, soon to happen, all part of the endless tapestry of creation.

All these things were Real and True here. And the Church glowed with potential. Tass was seeped into the stones. Colours were stronger and more vivid. The sky was a little more blue. Who's enlightenment this was, it was impossible to say. Perhaps what mattered most was who was there to witness it.

Whatever had happened had happened inside.

[Anarion]

"Let us out on the corner please," Tessen directs the cab driver. "And," she blushes, "Turing could you get the fare. I still don't have a job or any spending money."


The sheer number of threads, the tapestry is overwhelming. Like walking towards the middle of spider web. That's not really helpful though. Tessen wants to know how to go inside without anybody seeing them or bothering them.

She fingers the hummingbird ornament absentmindedly while Turing is paying, ending the supernal vision spell, and putting up two others while she waits and scanning the construction cite to see what kind of power flows through it.

[cast Unseen Shield with potency 2 and duration 24 hours without spending a mana. Reduces dice pool from 5 dice to 1 die, but since out of combat, that should still allow a success, even if it takes 12-15 seconds instead of 3-6. Cast potency 5 read matrices.]

[the_druid_droid]

Turing had already been reaching for his wallet; when he paid the cabbie, he made sure to include a healthy tip. Once the man had sped off, turing returned his attention on the church.

Even without mage sight, he could tell the place was powerful; in the middle of a desperate city, men were working to codify in stone a hope that had only existed on paper and in hearts until now. And yet, whatever had happened here today was more significant still.

They really needed to beat the Seers to this.

“I think we should go for a walk around the block; I want to see what we’re getting into, and find out if there’s another way in.” Beginning to walk down the street, Turing shoved his hands into the pockets of his overcoat, and did his best to look like he was headed somewhere else.

[Thanqol]

It was really easy to case a place when everyone was wearing soundproof headphones. There was a standard rent-a-fence and two standard rent-a-cops guarding the front door, and perhaps twenty or thirty workers. The main door of the place was open, any others were hidden behind construction work.

There were enough eyes around that it would be very difficult to hop the fence and run inside without being seen.

As they watched anyone with Prime or Fate sight would see there was suddenly a new connection to the church, an Important one that ran right to the centre. This was clearly a spell - someone had cast something to bring them rapidly to this place. The spell was cast on the person themselves, not the building, so it couldn't be dispelled from this end, but it was a warning that they didn't have a lot of time.

[Anarion]

"Oh, maybe they'll just let us in. They look, um, a little bored, don't you think? But I, uh, don't really want to do it. Turing, Amun, you go ahead, I'll just follow you in."

[somewhat indulging either cowardice or sloth, or both.]

[the_druid_droid]

Turing shrugged; he was really the only one required to do this, and if his friends were going to put themselves in the way of the Throne, he’d prefer it to be on their terms. He straightened his tie and readjusted the pin holding it in place, then began walking toward the security guards.

Come on Samedi, let’s put on a show

Deciding the best lie to tell would be one that was mostly true, Turing fished out a notepad and pen from an interior pocket. “Hello gentlemen, my name’s Luke and I’m with the press.” Technically, it was a pirate radio station, “I’m working on a story about the soul of Detroit, and I gotta say, there’s something special about this place. A real feel of urban renewal, and that’s rare these days. Think I could convince you to let me go take a peek inside, maybe chat with one of the workers? I promise I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I’ve had a look around.”

The Moros hoped that his efforts to present a dignified face to the world would add a little weight to his words.

[Thanqol]

"Gonna have to see some I.D., pal," said the rent-a-cop. He stuck his hand out - and this group was streetwise enough to know that President Grant's I.D. would be just as valid here.

[the_druid_droid]

“Let’s see here...” Turing brought out his wallet and began flipping through it.

Sonuvabitch.

At least there was something fitting about good old cash being all the ID a rogue radioman needed.

He left a couple of large bills in the man’s hand. “How’s that?”

[Thanqol]

"Welcome to the site, Mr. Grant," said the rent-a-cop, waving them through.

No one troubled them on their way into the church. And, immediately on going inside, they could see what all the fuss was about.

The interior of the church had just been painted. Breathtakingly. The artist was standing in the middle of the room, paint dripping from his brush and his eyes full of stars. He wasn't a mage - but he wasn't quite a sleeper either. He was like a Symbol, like a living artifact, a fragment of some higher realm. A nondescript black painter with a dirty apron, paint-stained face and stars in his eyes.

And the painting he'd just finished...

A sword, a massive sword, raised aloft on a pillar of fire. It hung above the altar, like the Sword of Damocles hovering above the head of the preacher. On the very tip of the blade was a splash of blue, red and white. Mid way down was a blue star, and indistinct blue writing on the blade. The sword hung in a painted sky so clear and blue, with clouds so white and detailed that it put the sky outside to shame.

And in that sky hung crosses. Dozens of them, in the colours of all the nations of the world. Shining like metal, hovering in the sky around that enormous, fiery Sword of God.

The painter smiled. "Hello," he said, like he'd been expecting them.

[Anarion]

Awestruck. Tessen's jaw nearly fell open when she walked inside. It was so...beautiful. Not pretty, no, but the forms were platonic, the way that the world was supposed to look. Without the vast nothingness of the abyss pressing down into them, there was nothing washing out these colors. This was the touch of the supernal. She gazes as well at the room with her mage sight and tries to read any resonance.

Rolling to read resonance with mage sight...in the OOC thread.

"H-how did you p-paint this?"

[Deadly]

Amun frowned under his mane of hair as they cased the place. "Someone's very likely to arrive here real soon," he said quietly to his friends, with no doubt about who he thought this someone was.

As they made their way inside, past the guards, he followed silently. Inside he stopped and marveled. Amun was not a highly religious person. In his mind there was no god deserving of worship but yourself. Still, he could definitely appreciate a piece of art like this, on its own merits. It was a creation of transcendant order upon a chaotic, messy and above all wrong world.

While Tessen scanned the room for supernal connections, Amun focused his attention on the man, and the winds of Fate speaking about him. Maybe he could pick out something of importance.

[Sibyl's Sight - Wits+Occult+Fate 9 = 3, 3, 2, 3, 8, 5, 10, 7, 1, ten again 9

Two successes

I hope I'm doing all these things right]

[Thanqol]

Resonance: Ascension. More than just representing divinity, everything about this room and this painting is aspected towards becoming more than you are. There are other resonances here, but they are blotted out by the sheer volume of that primary one (it will take a ritual casting here to gain more resonances)

Fate Sight: What is clear, above all, to Amun's sight is that this is image is what is True rather than what Is. The artist has used imperfect tools to try and communicate a total prophecy and a full-body vision, and he has had neither the space nor the tools to express it properly. What you see on that roof is but a small fragment of a larger prophecy.

The other thing that is obvious is that this sword, whatever or wherever it is, is hanging over Detroit.


The man smiled. "I just tried to paint what I saw. I knew that once I finished this, the angels would arrive -" a faint bow of the head made it clear that he was referring to them "- so I did my best to make it as clear as I could."

[Deadly]

Amun took in the whole breathtaking thing. As grand as it was, it wasn't the most important thing here. Clearly they had to get this man - and what he knew - out of here, and fast. Amun closed his eyes, trying to focus his senses on the flow of time in the building. Feeling the sands blow through his hands, slipping away fast, he turned to his two companions, "I don't think we have much more than five minutes before she gets here. We need to get this man to safety, and fast. This creation is only a fragment of something much larger."

[Timey-wimey dice pool: Gnosis+Time 2 = 1, 8, one success]

[Thanqol]

"If you run, the one chasing you will not show mercy," said the Painter, frowning distantly, the stars in his eyes dimming. "She does not like hunting so she will end it fast."

[Anarion]

Tessen lets out a sigh. "All those times I chewed out Hilltop, and we're going to have to do the same thing. Um...Mr. Painter, could you go outside for a second. And Amun, maybe you should go with him. We'll be right out after you in less than 30 seconds."

*Waits for the painter to go outside [because I'm not sure about paradox with this guy]*

Tessen pulls her pen out of her pocket and begins playing with it, running it back and forth across her knuckles and trying to calm her nerves as she begins muttering Atlantean words of power. She imagines this painting taking solid form in a weave of magic around her, a pattern that she can carry, a wave of particles that could go into any camera or computer when needed to reform the image in the Fallen World.

Casting a spell to preserve a magical image of the whole painting that can later be transferred to a camera or computer. This spell is almost surely vulgar. Not sure if you want it to cost a mana or not. Use of magical tool during casting to mitigate paradox, use of high speech to increase the pool to 7 dice. [roll0]
can't do rerolls from edits. Just googled roll a d10, and used Wizards dice roller. Got a 10, and then a 4. 5 successes total.

After Tessen makes a copy of the painting, she lets out another sigh, turns to Turing, and says. "Smash it and let's go before that scary mage gets here."

[Deadly]

Amun leads the painter outside, assuming he follows. As he walks he considers the painter's warning. "You suggest we should stay and wait for her? Talk to her?" Amun furrowed his brow in thought. Perhaps that was an option, but would it be wise?

[Momentary Flux to determine if staying or trying to get away is most likely to be beneficial, dice pool: Wits+Investigation+Time 6 = 6, 7, 5, 10, 2, 9, ten again 1

2 successes]

[Thanqol]

It's clear that the Painter is, at very least, a Sleepwalker. Still, he obeys the command and goes and stands near the door.

[Normally, whenever anything is translated from one medium to another something is lost in the communication. An exceptional success gives you a nigh perfect recording of this, though]

It is unclear how one would 'smash' the painting, given that it is a mural painted onto the walls and ceiling.

Amun had just asked a very complicated question, but filtered through the simplistic lens of the spell the answer was quite understandable: Both were dangerous, staying and negotiating was significantly less dangerous.

[Deadly]

Amun looked back inside. "I think there is a chance staying to talk will go better than trying to escape her," he said to his friends. "If we handle it right."

[the_druid_droid]

Turing took one more look at the mural covering the church walls.

“Tessen... I don’t think I can... I’m not even using Prime, but I feel like this is a little fragment of Truth, no Abyss or Paradox attached. Destroying it is what the Seers would want. I think that’s part of why she’s coming.”

After a quiet pause, he seemed to collect himself, and his voice lost a bit of the reverence it had taken on. “What I will do is go talk to Amun and our painter friend. He said some things that worry me, and I think we need to know more about what’s going on before we do anything rash.”

With that, he headed out after the others, his mind working furiously to try and get a handle on things before she arrived.

Turing got there just in time to hear Amun's advice; he nodded and turned toward the painter. "You seemed to think things would go worse if we fled. Is this person coming after the painting, after you, or both?"

[Anarion]

"But...she...she might kill us!"

Tessen looks about ready to cry, though she still follows Turing and takes no other action towards the mural.

[Thanqol]

"She is... confused," said the Painter, stars starting to glow in his eyes again. "She does not know where she is going, what she is looking for, or who she will find when she gets there. If she finds you talking, she shall be a negotiator. If she finds you running, she shall be a hunter. Both paths have great costs, but also great rewards."

[the_druid_droid]

“And for your own part? Do you want to stay here, or get away? We can help you do either.” Turing looked closely at the man, feeling the pressure of a decision closing in.

Defend the Awakened

[Thanqol]

The Painter smiled. "Wherever I go, I shall be provided for and allowed to paint. The only question for me is who sees it."

[Anarion]

"W-what happens if you paint for the wrong person?"

[Thanqol]

"There are no wrong people," said the Painter.

[Deadly]

Amun scratched his non-existent beard, then seemed to reach a conclusion with himself. It was a tricky move, potentially dangerous, but every path was dangerous. "We should stay. If what he said is true and she doesn't know what she will find when she gets here, perhaps she will be satisfied with the painting or its destruction. Let us keep our friend here out of sight and mind unless she actually asks for him. Perhaps we can even convince her he's elsewhere? What's your name, good man?"

[Thanqol]

"Anthony Rolfe," said the Painter, nodding. "I shall wait in the antechamber until you are done."

[There is a pause as Thanqol reads the entire exchange so far out loud, adding time for gaps, thinking, and action. It clocks in at about four minutes]

The Painter closed the door into the antechamber behind him. From down the street came a deep, throaty engine growl, audible even over the construction machinery.

[You have one minute for any final preparations or discussion]

[Anarion]

Tessen quickly writes down the name Anthony Rolfe in her notebook and looks to see what it responds.

She also opens up her senses with forces magic and listens near the engine sounds to see if she can hear anyone talking or catch any cell-phone transmissions.

[Thanqol]

[I need a Forces roll to see how much of the conversation from the car you get. This is opposed.]

The notebook comes up with the rather cryptic words "Devil's Triangle".

[Anarion]

[Not using high speech because time is at a premium and chanting takes too long. [roll0]. Rerolled success was a 3. 1 success total.]

[Thanqol]

[One was more than they got]

From the car:

"- Pentacle can't possibly have responded faster than we did -" a man's voice. Easygoing but with hidden tension. Possibly an edge of fear?
"Detective Slade, I don't care how good you think this car is. The blasphemers always get to incidents like this faster than we do. It is one of the immutable laws of the universe." Female. Formal. Precise. A faint German accent.
"Archon, this is Detroit. The Pentacle can't buy a gallon of milk without betraying one of their own."
"I do not like hearing justifications for sloth, Detective Slade."
"Yeah, yeah, Overlord's moving a bunch of squad cars into the area just in case. One phone call and they move in to assist."
"Very well. That will have to do."

[Anarion]

Tessen relays that conversation out loud to the others as it's coming in. When it gets to the "squad cars" part, and then finishes, she starts pacing the room. "Ah, oh on oh no oh no. They're gonna shoot us. I told you they were gonna shoot us!"

[the_druid_droid]

Turing nodded as Amun’s words confirmed his own thoughts. He returned to stand near the mural and glanced over it again, trying to fix it in his mind.

“They might shoot us, or they might not; I think a lot of it depends on us.” This moment was a microcosm of what the church itself had been for him - the border between thought and action, potential and reality, when the heart fluttered and the mind raced.

“Cigarette, anyone?” The Moros drew another from the rumpled pack in his coat before offering it to his friends. If he was going to die, he would damn well die with some nicotine in his system.

[Deadly]

"Breathe," he said to Tessen. "Just keep cool."

He followed Turing, hoping they were making the right decision. "No thanks."

[Anarion]

"Oh, I've never actually smoked before...but I'll take one."

[Thanqol]

To say a black sedan pulled up out the front of the church would be to say that some kind of reptile knocked over Tokyo Tower.

It was a monster of a car. Even without any magical sights up, it reeked violence, fury, and speed. With magical sights up the picture became even more threatening. The car was possessed in a major way - its Guardian Spirit was awakened with magic and fed with the spirits of lesser cars until it had morphed into a bloodthirsty hunting machine. It was quite happily driving itself, with both Seers sitting in the back seat.

The windows were opaque - in fact, they were solid steel, made transparent from the inside with Matter magic. The engine growled like the devil, making the car punch well above its weight class. The entire thing was covered in Scrying wards. It was more like a mobile Sanctum than a mere car.

Two Seers of the Throne got out.

One was Cyprus, the Golden Gloved Archon of the Paternoster Ministry. She was a handsome woman. A bit too tall, too distant, too boyish, too severe to be beautiful, but so disciplined and unusually dressed that she commanded attention. The impression of strength and power stopped at her eyes. Her gaze was haunted. Sleep did not come easily to her.

Her dress was incredibly rich and fine; like a fantastically wealthy German Prince from some bygone age. Her vest was white and gold, like her gloves. Even the bleach blonde of her hair spoke of wealth and breeding. She wore a sword by her side.

The man next to her was far less ostentatious; indeed, almost the reverse. He was a burly, square-jawed man with a number of sticking plasters on his face. He looked strangely innocent, gormless; the type of person too thick and average to really consider deceit. He wore a brown trenchcoat and a pistol.

The detective waved his badge to get the two of them past the guards, not that it looked like anyone was in danger of trying to stop Cyprus. The Archon walked directly into the church, fist clenched firmly around the hilt of her sword.

[the_druid_droid]

When Tessen had fished out one of the slim white cylinders, Turing held out his lighter for her. “Try not to inhale straight from the cigarette; just pull a little smoke into your mouth and then slowly breathe in.”

He returned the package to his coat, then leaned on his cane in the center aisle, flanked by the hardwood pews. His features were set, but he found himself surprisingly calm. He was a Guardian in training, after all, with the inside track on the mage they were about to face - this was his job.

[Thanqol]

Cyprus looked around the church. Her eyes immediately fell on the Sword of God, and she quickly looked away, focusing her attention on the Mages waiting for her.

"Don't you know it's a sin to smoke in a church?" she said to them, voice challenging.

[Anarion]

Tessen gives several small, quiet coughs in response.

[the_druid_droid]

“God is forgiving, or so we must hope.” Turing gave her a pointed look in turn. “I take it you are the Archon?”

Protect the Sanctity of Magic

[Deadly]

Amun kept silent, smiling casually. Although a part of him wished he had taken Turing's offer on the smoke, now. Another part of him reminded him that he was trying to be diplomatic here.

[Thanqol]

Cyprus actually laughed. There was a little bit of contempt there, but a little bit of bitterness too.

"Yes, I am. This is my new acquaintance, Detective Slade."

Only Amun would be able to see it as he was the only one with Supernal Vision active - Slade was casting a Mind spell, targeted at them; likely an attempt to read surface thoughts.

He could try to counter it, but Cyprus would definitely see it and perhaps respond in kind. Or perhaps respond disproportionately.

"You seem to know who I am," said Cyprus, settling back into her guarded self. "Which means you know why I'm here."

[Deadly]

Amun coughed a bit. This required some calm, restrained thinking. "Perhaps we could leave out the pointed magic for now?" he said, politely, with a glance towards Slade. "I am certain I speak for both my friends when I say we wish to keep things polite."

[the_druid_droid]

Turing kept his attention on Cyprus as Amun spoke.

“I have a guess, at least. Given that you serve the Iron Throne and that this work,” here he waved a hand at the incredible painting behind him, “represents a piece of the Truth filtered into our fallen world, you most likely have been ordered to deface, destroy, or confiscate it.”

[Thanqol]

Cyprus held up a hand to Slade, who stopped the spell mid-cast. To Turing she said, "You can see as well as I can that this painting is incomplete. While keeping something as valuable as this out of unworthy hands is important I would far prefer to locate the source. I would appreciate it if you worked with me on this."

Evidently, Slade's casting had been a veiled threat - ending that sentence on 'or I'll have to take it from your mind'.

[the_druid_droid]

“I didn’t realize the Throne was in the business of offering commissions. Or did you have something else in mind for the artist?” Turing’s tone conveyed that he had a few ideas about what Seers were prone to do with their mortal or sleepwalker captives.

While waiting for an answer, he shifted his weight slightly and the ember of his cigarette flared.

[Thanqol]

"Oh please," Cyprus said, with genuine contempt. "I am not one of the raving psychopaths who inhabit the streets of this corrupt city. I have no desire to brutalise anyone, let alone anyone so valuable. No, what is going to happen is this: We shall give the painter an extraordinarily well paying job and all the materials he could ever desire, and we shall keep him fed, comfortable, and away from where you will ever find him."

She laughed. "Not in the business of offering commissions? What do you think the Iron Pyramid is?"

[the_druid_droid]

“I think it is an organization that has made you afraid. That wants to make everyone afraid, or bored, or dead inside.” Turing straightened, “I’m not so much worried that you would brutalize our artist, as that you would do the Exarch’s will in regard to him.”

[Thanqol]

Cyprus' eyes hardened, and the glimmer of empathy she'd briefly held disappeared. "Mr. Slade, it is clear to me now that we are dealing with an... what's that word for 'uneducated rube' they use these days?"

"Idealist, ma'am,"

"Quite so. I am not here to debate philosophy with you, I am here to do what must be done," Cyprus said. "If you knew even the slightest whisper of what you were talking about when you mouthed the word 'Exarch' you would be afraid as well, and you would also be out of my way."

[the_druid_droid]

Turing nodded slightly. “Very well. I am, as you say, an idealist and on principle I refuse to willingly aid a Seer in their work. However, I am not stupid, and you clearly have us at an advantage so I do not intend to actively oppose you.”

He moved slightly, out of the center of the aisle. “Do what you will.”

[Anarion]

Although Turing steps aside, Tessen does not move with him. She starts to say something, coughs slightly, looks at the cigarette like the traitorous little paper roll it is, throws it on the floor and stamps on it, then starts again.

"When you said, 'away from where we will ever find him,' you mean everyone, right? Every mage, even other Seers? I understand that maybe something supernal like this could cause a paradox if exposed to too many sleepers. But, keeping it from everyone? Why would you do that? It's so beautiful."

[Thanqol]

"No, not away from other Seers," Cyprus said. "Just away from you. When one has access to an effective prophet one does not go sharing him around."

She started walking slowly forwards, looming over Tessien.

Slade turned his head to look at the door of the antechamber, and pursed his lips.

[Anarion]

Tessen shrinks backwards, but does not actually move.

Genuinely surprised, "the artist is a p-prophet? You mean he can do more than just this one painting? Then, you want him to make prophecies for you, forever. But, you'll use them to hurt us, won't you?"

[Thanqol]

"Probably," Cyprus said to all three questions. "Ask yourself if us maybe hurting you later is worse than definitely hurting you now."

[Anarion]

"They're both horrible! Why do you want to hurt anyone?!"

[Thanqol]

Cyprus looked like she was going to snap at Tessen in the same way she had at Turing, but for some reason she caught herself. There was a strangely troubled look on her face and her voice softened a bit.

"Because I met an Exarch in person. Because I know what they will do to this world if denied. I don't want to hurt anyone, but if it spares this world divine vengeance then I shall. I would appreciate it if you didn't make this trial harder than it already is."

[Deadly]

Amun hadn't moved either. Seeing Tessen stand strong he had decided to remain by her side for support. He hoped fervently that Tessen knew what she was doing, or had inordinary good luck with this line of conversation.

He tried to ignore Slade's little look. The earlier show with the spell had convinced Amun that Slade liked playing mind tricks. Amun hoped he was right, that Slade was just fishing for a reaction.

And then he couldn't help himself any more. "So you fight against those who are weakest? Tell yourself if that sounds right. We may be lowly idealists, and yes we may fail, but at least we won't simply let ourselves be threatened into submission by divine bullies."

[Thanqol]

That didn't look like it was remotely the correct thing to say.

That momentary flicker of empathy died on Cyprus' face, and her right hand raised. There was an audible hum in the air as the spell began to take hold around her fingertips. The lights in the church began to dim; the painted blue sky almost seemed to cloud and darken. The crucifixes that adorned the room began to glow an ominous purple. The hum enhanced to a throb as Cyprus raised her hand above her head.

"If threats do not work," said Cyprus grimly, gathering the threads of Celestial Fire around her fingers, "then all that is left is the violence."

[Anarion]

"No, wait! That's not, you don't need to do that. We'll move. Just...just do what you want." *Tessen immediately begins backing away to join Turing.*

[Deadly]

Amun didn't move, but neither did he counter the attack. He looked her in the eyes. "I will not fight you. Will you strike me down?" It was, in fact, a challenge. Amun knew he would be overpowered if he fought, but he also knew he was right, and he would not be forced to stand down so easily. He hoped to win a different kind of battle.

[Thanqol]

She was going to do it. He could see it in her eyes clearly. She'd done this before and would do it again because there were things that were more important to her than her conscience -

"Rebecca d'Payens."

Cyprus looked around reflexively, and then her face froze in shock when she realised the significance of what she'd just heard.

The Painter had stepped out of the antechamber, and was looking at Cyprus clearly and directly.

"How - how do you know -"

"How could I not know your name, Rebecca?" the Painter said, a distant sadness mixed with kind chastisement.

"Never," Cyprus got a hold of herself. "Never call me by that name ever again."

"It was necessary," said the Painter.

Cyprus pointed at him. "You are coming with me," she said. It wasn't a request.

"I know," said the Painter calmly.

Cyprus made to walk past Amun and approach the Painter. The tension in the air as she made to step past Amun clearly warned him not to push it.


Meanwhile, Slade had walked over to stand directly in front of Turing. He took a deep breath, and looked for a moment like he was trying to gather the courage to say or do something.

[Anarion]

"Fear obliterates even the search for truth. Fear of something terrible is a form of faith," Tessen suddenly blurts out. "We cast a fate spell about you, Cyprus, before we got here and that's what it said. Fear...it's something we all have to live with. But, but if the exarchs are as powerful as you're afraid they are, why do they need to send you here? Why does this *gestures to the ceiling* even exist? It's...it's because they're afraid. They're afraid there's still beauty in this world, and that if people like you realized it, and stopped being afraid of them, they would lose their power."

[Thanqol]

Cyprus stopped where she was.

"Don't talk about things you don't understand," she said. "You don't understand how lucky you are that They have people like me."

[Anarion]

"Then tell me. Tell us what's so frightening, we can't possibly understand it."

[Thanqol]

"There... is no way to say something like that in this language," Cyprus said, fists clenching. She spoke three words in Atlantean:

"[Totality/Absolute/Would obliterate if it had not already dismissed the concept of Death from it's domain]"

"[Scale/Volume/Noise/A sound that permanently changes the soul of the one who hears it]"

"[Warning/Divine Commandment/Condemnation/Judgement/Prophecy]"

"This is not a matter that can be debated. This is the nature of God."

[Anarion]

Tessen smiles, but her eyes look sad. "It is the nature of humanity. We are capable of the highest nobility and the most base villainy. Man and god, we are not so different. The exarchs may have reached the pinnacle first and cast down the celestial ladder, but they couldn't change the nature of the soul, only hide it beneath the lie. They couldn't prevent the creation of the watchtowers, and whatever you may think, they can't stop sleepers from awakening, from remembering who and what they are. They stumble along the way, and your order helps slow the process, but eventually they will remember that they're all gods. And we will be there to help them when they struggle, if not me, then someone else."

[Thanqol]

"Psh. Words," Cyprus said, starting to walk again. "That's all you have. Words and hope and cheap philosophy. That is not nearly enough."

It wasn't that she wasn't listening. It's that she didn't have a more coherent response.

[the_druid_droid]

Turing had smiled faintly when Tessen stood her ground. He hadn’t wanted to put the others’ lives on the line with his actions - he had seen the fear in Tessen’s eyes when she had first heard of Cyprus and he could hardly bear to drag her into this confrontation.

But now, after seeing their resolve, Turing felt pride grow in his chest. He was glad to say he had friends crazy enough to argue theology with a Seer even his Guardian superiors were wary of, and if they were going to die they would do it defying the false Thrones. It was starting to put him in a better mood.

As Slade approached, he turned his attention to the Seer. “And what do you choose, Mr. Slade? Now that our prophet has made an appearance, I don’t suppose you will be needing me for information.”

[Thanqol]

"Well, actually..." said Slade.

He took a deep breath and looked like he made his decision.

He turned to look at Cyprus. The Archon turned to meet his gaze. Something passed between them - from the mix of reactions on Cyprus' face, it was like an entire conversation carried in the course of five seconds. The Archon went from shock, to contemplation, to agreement. She nodded to Slade.

Slade looked back to Turing. He took another breath, and then forced his face into a snarl. "Of course we don't need you for information. The Eye sees everything," he stressed that entire sentence, "and I am sick of you looking at me like that."

He swung a left hook at Turing's jaw.

[the_druid_droid]

Turing wondered to himself what the unspoken communication might be, especially after the look that appeared on Cyprus’ face. His thoughts were interrupted however when Slade took a swing at him.

Why the hell isn’t he using magic?

The gray-haired man attempted to dodge the punch, trying to wrap his brain around what was going on. Weren’t they supposed to be calling down fire from on high? An old-fashioned brawl felt... almost funny in this situation.

[Turing attempts a dodge, still trying to buy time here]

[Anarion]

Tessen lets out a shriek. "What are you doing?! The painter's right there. You got what you want. Leave Turing alone."

[Thanqol]

Slade caught the side of Turing's head with his punch, stinging and making his head spin. The detective was strong.

He twisted his arm out to grab the front of Turing's shirt and pull him in. Turing would get the momentary feeling of Slade stuffing something down the front of his shirt before the detective took another swing at him.


Cyprus turned on her heel and backhanded Tessen hard across the face.


[For really interesting combats, don't tell the players how much damage they're taking]

[the_druid_droid]

Turing grunted as the agent’s punch connected, but managed to keep his head clear enough to feel the other man slip him something.

Something was up...

“Alright, if this is what you want! Might as well put the close-quarters training into action!”

[Turing’s turn to try and swing. Let me know what attribute and skill; I’m thinking Strength+Brawl]

[Anarion]

Tessen doesn't flinch at all when she's slapped. She just looks a bit surprised and stares at Cyprus.

[Deadly]

[Wits+Streetwise 6: 4, 1, 8, 3, 10, 6, ten again 5, two successes]

Amun watched tensely. Things were not going well. They should have run instead of staying. Damn it all, he should never have trusted that blasted prophet. Damn prophets never good for anything anyway, thinking their words bind and control other people. He couldn't see any way of getting them to give up the painter now. They wouldn't get anything out of this.

And then there was the exchange of looks, and then Slade hit Turing. Amun blinked, and almost smiled. Perhaps they had been more successful than he had dared to hope after all. Perhaps a seed had been planted. He stopped himself, forcing his face into even more of a scowl instead. He could play along with this.

Amun was no good in a fight, he never had been, but he could look big and threatening and that was all he needed here. Acting. He turned as Cyprus slapped Tessen. He knew his friend was pretty tough, deep down, but she looked like she hadn't quite caught on yet.

"Hey!", he growled and rushed at the Seer. This was going to hurt a bit but Amun had tried that before. He didn't expect to even get within striking distance, but he was damn well going to make it look authentic.

[Thanqol]

Amun had seen this kind of thing before, most often around police stings. An informant got roughed up publicly by cops so that his street cred would remain intact. This was kind of like the reverse of that.

The upshot was that the Seers were not striking to kill. The downside was that they had to make it look real, which meant that this was going to hurt.


Cyprus waved her hand, pained, remembering the force field too late. Tessen hesitated and lost her chance to counter, though, and Cyprus cast a spell.

Invisible fire shrouded her arms. She stepped forwards, hooking her ankle around Tessen's foot, and then struck with an elbow into Tessen's throat. Both limbs passed through the forcefield without resistance; Prime magic allowing them to ignore the defense without damaging it.

There would be a moment to wonder why she had done it that way - the Archon could just have easily torn the shield to shreds with a single focused Dispel. As it was, she'd fall, with a badly bruised throat, but she'd land safely on the ground and not crack her head on the stone.


Slade spit blood from Turing's punch. He looked surprised at this, and smiled briefly. He even chanced a wink.

Then he threw a slow, powerful full body punch.


As Amun started his run at Cyprus, there was a silver flicker and the sword was in her hand and raised to meet his charge.

[Anarion]

Lying on the floor, Tessen saw the sword whip out, while the burly cop (Slade was his name, right?) threw a knockout punch at Turing. Not really thinking, and having no time for subtlety, Tessen simply thrust out her hand from the floor and exerted as much force as she could to blow both the Seers into the far wall. She also tried to shout out "I won't let you hurt them!" but with her throat damaged, it was more of a pained croak.

[Improvised kinetic force. Not intended to do damage, merely to throw them both out of the way and into the wall. Not sure if they're within a 1 yard radius or not, so it could be either 3 or 5 dice on the roll.]

[Thanqol]

[They're not that close to each other, so with multiple targets it's 3 dice.

Cyprus does have an Arcane Shield up, so she reflexively spends one of the mana points committed to it to apply a penalty equal to her Prime dots (4) to the spell. It's a bit of a grey area, but I think a shield is a personal protection so that defense only applies to Cyprus and not both of them. So roll 3 dice vs Slade and a chance dice vs Cyprus.

This is also Vulgar. I decided to rule the earlier photograph thingy spell Covert (with option to become vulgar later if you broadcast the image) so the Paradox Ticker is currently at 0.]

[Anarion]

[There's presumably a paradox roll as well, and the croaked exclamation was an attempt to use one of Tessen's magical tools to mitigate that.]

Chance roll [roll0]
Slade [roll1]

[Thanqol]

[On the plus side, the Paradox roll didn't go anywhere either.]

[Deadly]

Amun frowned. He needed to think quick, to hopefully end the show quickly and stop Tessen from going berserk. Well, no time to think it over.

"Fffff..."

Amun hissed between clenched teeth and dodged to the side, aiming a kick at Cyprus' leg. He knew he had about zero chance of connecting, and assuredly would get stabbed for his effort. But it would look dramatic and much worse than it was, and probably no worse than father's belt... he hoped.

It had better be worth it.

[Shifting the Odds, Wits+Science+Fate 9: 5, 2, 1, 8, 9, 8, 8, 1, 7

Four successes, to make his inevitable defeat look worse than it is

1 mana]

[Thanqol]

As the blast of force hit Cyprus, a glowing purple aura of complex sigils and diagrams briefly surrounded her, leaving her unruffled.

And then Amun was almost on her, and her sword was reflexively moving to counter.

It was like watching a swordsman do some showy warm up moves, flicking the blade around faster than the eye could see and then striking a pose. It was like that except there was blood everywhere. It wasn't quite clear where it was all coming from. There was at least one small cut on every major section of the body, making it look like Amun had been reduced to a bloody wreck in seconds.

Fortunately, the individual cuts were hurting. That probably meant they were shallow. It was when you couldn't feel your lower body that you were in trouble. Lots of small sharp pains was better than one big, throbbing one. Useless trivia and contradictory bits of advice for self-diagnosis bubbled to mind as Amun collapsed in a spray of blood.

He didn't feel dying. Just really really hurting. A doctor would be nice.

[Deadly]

Amun collapsed with a cry of pain. It probably added to the dramatic effect, but mostly it was because it actually hurt like hell. Now he hoped it would have its intended effect.

[Anarion]

"Amun!" Tessen tried to shout, though it still came out as little more than a croak thanks to the sharp blow to her throat. She thought about trying to get up, but looking at what Cyprus had just done, and the pain in her own throat, she was too frightened. Slowly, she tried to crawl over to him on the floor instead.

[the_druid_droid]

Turing smirked a little himself as his punch landed. That’s how we do it in the Guardians!

Even if he was cursing at not having a shielding spell ready, he could at least say that he’d landed a hit on a Seer... He was also vaguely aware that the others were fighting, and hoped they had picked up on what was happening, but his thoughts were interrupted when he saw Slade pull back for the haymaker.

If the last punch was any indication, he would have difficulty getting out of the way, and this was most likely going to hurt. A lot. Turing gritted his teeth and braced for impact.

[Thanqol]

The punch hit Turing in the gut and knocked all the air out of him, throwing him back into the pews. Hurt like hell. Slade used the advantage to draw his pistol and aim it at Turing.

Cyprus lowered her sword, took a breath, and spat on the ground in front of Tessen. "Remember this, blasphemers," she said. She grabbed the Painter by the shoulder and started to frogmarch him out of the building, followed closely by Slade.

[Wits+Occult from those who have it, please]

[the_druid_droid]

[Wits + Occult pool is 3. Rolled - 5, 5, 8 so one success]

Turing grabbed his abdomen and grimaced as he leaned against the pew for support. He wasn’t feeling quite so foolish as to charge Slade with the gun in play, so he simply watched, breathing raggedly, as they departed.

[Anarion]

Tessen just looks at Cyprus at she walks away. But it's a look that says I'm not angry with you, I'm just sorry for you.

[wits plus occult [roll0] and also, just in case Tessen's specialization in magic applies, one extra die [roll1] And rerolled 10s are a 6 and a 1, respectively.]

[Thanqol]

To those who saw it, there was no way that Cyprus had spit like that by mistake. She was a trained countermage; she knew better than that. Blood, spit, hair, fingernails, they could all be used to power an extremely powerful Scrying spell - which was doubly dangerous considering they knew her true name.

In which case, the obvious connection came to mind - she'd done the magical equivalent of leaving behind a phone number.


Turing, meanwhile, had a crumpled piece of paper down the front of his shirt. It had the words "I want out" and a single drop of dried blood in it's centre.


The Seer car drove away.

[Anarion]

With the seers gone, Tessen has the presence of mind to collect a little bit of the spit [we'll say she soaks it into the corner of a piece of paper], and then immediately gets up and runs over to Amun. "Amun! Amun!, are you all right?!"

[Thanqol]

[Turing has access to Life Sight; using that can get you an accurate medical diagnosis including a reading on how bad people are hurt. If you use it:
Turing: 3B
Amun: 4L
Tessen: 1B]

[the_druid_droid]

When he’d managed to catch his breath, Turing walked stiffly over to join the others.
The corners of his eyes crinkled worriedly as he took in Amun’s bloody clothes and the bruise forming over Tessen’s throat. If they were badly hurt, medical attention was the top priority, so Turing brought up Life Sight to double-check his cabal mates’ conditions.

Under the effect, he could tell that Amun was hurt the worst, although that came as no surprise. Still, it didn’t appear that anything vital had been damaged, and his tension eased a little. They would need bandages, and tomorrow would be full of aches and pains, but they would live.

“I think Amun is going to be ok, Tessen. He’s bleeding, but I can’t see anything bad with mage sight; the cuts are mostly pretty shallow.”

[Should I roll for this, since Life Sight technically costs him mana? If so, I can roll it in the OOC]

[Thanqol]

[Should I roll for this, since Life Sight technically costs him mana? If so, I can roll it in the OOC]

[Yeah, we should track mana expenditure 'cause your Hallow is crap. There's about 10 points of Tass in the stones of this Church, though, which Amun can harvest]

[Deadly]

[Wits+Occult 7: 10, 1, 6, 3, 4, 3, 9 ten again 4, two successes]

Amun groaned. "I'm better than I might have been," he managed with some effort.

[Anarion]

When Amun speaks, Tessen says "You're okay!" and hugs him, then immediately lets him go. "Oh, sorry, that probaby hurt. I'll just give you some air."

She moves back and over to Turing. "I don't understand. We did exactly what they asked, we didn't even stall very long. Why did they attack us like that?"

[Deadly]

" 'Okay' is a stretch," Amun groaned as he was hugged. " 'Not dead' is closer to the truth. And I say we get out of here before discussing what happened and what to do next."

[the_druid_droid]

“I agree with Amun; this is something best discussed once we’re back home. For the moment though, I think we’re safe... such as we are.” Turing winced as his jaw throbbed with the effort of speaking. “Amun, are you able to stand?”

While he spoke, he knelt by the pool of blood beginning to congeal on the floor. He reached out and let his fingers brush its edge, willing the connection it bore to his cabal-mate to fade and wither. Better safe than sorry, after all.

[I’m assuming the effect doesn’t cost mana and thus no roll, since we’re not rushed]

[Thanqol]

[Actually, a roll is important here. There's the chance you could miss something which could come back to bite you.]

[Anarion]

"Um, guys, how are we going to get back home? It's several miles and I don't really think taking Amun on a taxi or a bus like that would be a great idea."

[Deadly]

[I assume he can still stand without too much trouble]

Amun struggled back on his legs. "I think I'll manage. Good thinking," he added as Turing wilted the connection of the blood. "I don't know, if we walk we're bound to be seen by more than just one taxi driver"

[Anarion]

"Maybe someone will lend you an overcoat?"

[Streetwise question. Which method of travel would attract the least attention with a wounded Amun? Bus, cab, or walking. If we walk, is there a relatively safe route we can take to avoid getting mugged or stopped?]

[Thanqol]

[If you roll a success on Int+Streetwise, with a -2 difficulty penalty, then you have the phone number of a guy who's speciality is no-questions-asked transport. If you make that a -4 penalty you can also find an illegal clinic who'll patch you up for cheap. No legit bus or taxi driver is going to want the lawsuit of having a guy die or bleed all over their vehicle. You can walk but it'll be slow and painful going and probably deal another point or two of damage from the bleeding.]

[Deadly]

[Int+Streetwise-2 = 3

10, 9, 10, ten again 10, 7, ten again again 3

I swear I rolled that :smalleek: Four successes on the -2 penalty, with a -4 it'd be a dice pool of 1 so still 2 successes]

Amun gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the pain so he could think. "Well, if we can find a phone I might know a guy and a place, depending on how much we can afford, but at least we should be able to get out of here."

[Thanqol]

[Int+Streetwise-2 = 3

10, 9, 10, ten again 10, 7, ten again again 3

I swear I rolled that :smalleek: Four successes on the -2 penalty, with a -4 it'd be a dice pool of 1 so still 2 successes]

Amun gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the pain so he could think. "Well, if we can find a phone I might know a guy and a place, depending on how much we can afford, but at least we should be able to get out of here."

[With scaling modifiers like that you generally have to pick which option you're going for before you roll, but in this case I'll accept it :smallsmile:

We're talking between $50-$200 for a quick patch job, with more if it looks like it comes with a lot of heat, plus the $50 for transport. It's going to blow most of Turing's monthly income.]

[the_druid_droid]

Turing considered for a moment. “I think that if we can get you home, we’ll be able to clean you up and get those wounds bandaged, if you don’t mind being poked and prodded for a little while.”

He reflected that if today was any indication, the first thing he should do tomorrow would be talk with Firebee to pull some more jobs so they could go on a shopping spree for the sanctum. Lack of supplies in a city like this was getting to be a pain that could easily grow into a fatal problem.

[Anarion]

"You really think we can fix him up ourselves? If there's a place where a doctor can help us without getting anyone in trouble, we should do it. A little money isn't as important as someone's life."

[the_druid_droid]

“Well, I-” He realized that he wasn’t even positive where the first aid kit was back at the sanctum. “You may have a point... What was the number, Amun?”

Stuck between wanting to help his friend and trying to save up in case something worse were to happen, the Moros slumped just a little.

[Anarion]

"We could just call a regular doctor too. We'd have to give them our real IDs and you probably couldn't clean up the blood as easily, but it might be cheaper. My plan is only a $20 co-pay as long as I don't get sick too much."

[Deadly]

"I never carry much cash, but I can pay you back in a day or two," Amun said to Turing as he gave him the numbers. "It is best if we go with someplace they won't ask too many questions, I think."

[Anarion]

While they're waiting for the cab, Tessen begins scribbling a few notes about the event. These ones are just in her regular sized notebook, not the enchanted pocketbook, but it does occur to her that she forgot to check some things. She adds the names "Rebecca d'Payens," "Detective Slade" and the "The Devil's Triangle" to the fated pocketbook.

[Thanqol]

Rebecca d'Payens - "A beautifully made sword that craves a scabbard."

Detective Slade - "The price of his redemption is tragedy, madness and blood."

The Devil's Triangle - "What seems a matter of Holy and Unholy really comes down to Ambition and Jealousy."

[Anarion]

"Hmm, holiness and redemption, tragedy and ambition. That's...it sounds so beautiful, but it probably means a lot of people are going to get hurt." Tessen lets out a small sigh. "You think the cab will be here soon? I want to get Amun treated, and then go back to our building and lie down. Or maybe get that transmitter working and do a show. This whole thing was sort of, um, inspiring in some ways. Not that anybody actually listens to my show of course..."

[Thanqol]

And it was at about this point that the shady white van pulled up outside the church.

This van had History. There was a powerful flavour of resonance to it, in much the same way as the church. There was something encoded within it's shape and frame, a formula, a pattern. The sort of thing that'd take a months-long research project to figure out in its' entity.

It didn't feel like it was a happy story though.

There was a bulletproof screen between the driver and the back compartment, with an open tray and a note that read "$50 and address."

[the_druid_droid]

Turing scribbled down the address Amun had given him for the clinic on a sheet of paper from his notebook and wrapped it around a $50 bill, before passing it through the hole in the bulletproof partition.

While he waited for the driver to take off, he turned over the events at the church in his head, adding in the information Tessen’s pocketbook provided. The only thing that seemed certain was that whichever road they chose to follow would be hard, and their confrontation with the Seers was only the beginning.

[Thanqol]

From there, the road back to the sanctum was a relatively straightforwards one.

The clinic, operating out of an alley behind a Chinese restaurant, quickly and methodically stitched Amun up without asking any questions. The doctor, a cigar-smoking Texan, figuring that it didn't look like either the gangs or the cops were involved, only charged $75. He gave some quick advice on when to change his bandages and sent them on their way.

[Amun: Downgrade one lethal health level to bashing]

And after that, there was nothing in between the Mages and their sanctum.

[Anarion]

When they get back to the sanctum, Tessen first goes up to a room she's set up for herself on the 20th floor and lies down for a minute. However, she feels restless and instead goes up to the transmitter on the roof, gives it some juice and starts it up.

Radio broadcast
"Hey all you cats and kittens, if any of you are out there tuning in. This is DJ Skylark, and I wanted to give you all a heads up that the graffiti artists are gettin better these days. You might remember I've told you about some of the art on crumbling buildings that was a limited time offer, but today we've got an upgrade to a building that's on the way up, instead of goin down.

Now, I'm talking about the Church, way out there on [whatever street]. Ceiling in there is something special. If any of you folks are looking for transcendence, or if you just want to see Detroit's very own sword of Damocles, you should check it out. Fair warning, you might have to get past a rent-a-cop or two. I'm pretty sure any of DJ Skylark's listeners know just fine how to get past that one though. Just in case, tell them your reservation's under Ulysses S. Grant.

My thought for the day is find someone that's been giving you trouble and try to work it out with them. Might turn out that all they're looking for is a way out of whatever jam they've stuck themselves into, and you could help.

Last, but not least for today, I've got a request, for all of you tuning in today (all zero of you probably, but you never know). I'm in the market for a job. You've all heard me talk, but turns out I can write too, and I'd like to do my part to spread the word about our Lady of Detroit. If any of you are interested in someone to do articles, I've got a line set up at (313) sky-lark. That's (313) 759-5275.

Peace y'all"

[for the phone line, what do I need to roll to hook up an answering machine to that number, and can it be a number that nobody else in Detroit has?]

[Thanqol]

[for the phone line, what do I need to roll to hook up an answering machine to that number, and can it be a number that nobody else in Detroit has?]

[If you maintain an active Transmission spell I'll let it go through to your brain whenever it's dialled]

[Anarion]

[Okay, let me take off the image spell then.]

After finishing her broadcast, Tessen puts up a transmission spell to tune in to the airwaves and pick up any calls made to her new number.

She then goes downstairs to Turing's room and releases the stored image of the church artwork, placing it in a new folder on Turing's desktop. If he's there, she explains what she's doing, if not she leaves him a note and puts it hanging over the computer screen so he won't miss it.

Then, she goes to lie down, this time for a long nap.

[the_druid_droid]

Turing paid the doctor without any fuss, and when they arrived back at the sanctum, he tended to his own injuries, taking a couple of ibuprofen with a bourbon chaser. Once the ache in his jaw subsided, he tried to distract himself with a book, but his eyes kept slipping past the words while he tried to make sense of the day.

Eventually, Turing gave up, laying the book on a table and turning his seat toward the window to look outside at the skyline. When Tessen appeared, he roused himself and turned toward the younger Mage. "Oh, hi there Tessen. Is the radio still behaving?"

[Anarion]

"Oh, no I got it transmitting. I just did a show *beams* but I don't know if anyone listened to it. It's sort of hard to tell how far it's going, and I'm not really sure who would be tuning in to random radio frequencies anyway, since I don't advertise.

Um, that's not really important now though. I wanted to come put this on your computer. We may have lost the artist, but at least we got the picture!"

She then loads up the photo on Turing's computer, rendering what looks to be a perfect reproduction of the painting from the church. It remains breathtaking.

[Thanqol]

There were advantages and disadvantages to having the photo on a computer; on one hand, it was easier to zoom in and examine detail. On the other hand, there was something essential missing from the experience. The way you had to turn your head up to look at the sword; the distances and spacing and perspective, and that sense of the working being incomplete were all lost when viewed through a flat 2D screen. It wasn't nearly as powerful a vector for magic this way.

A lot could still be gained from it, though, and here they had the ease of free study.

[Deadly]

Amun took the elevator up to near the top where the Hallow was located, close to where Tessen had her transmitter. This was his favored place and usually it was quiet too, which was good when you needed peace to recover. He parked his big suitcase against the wall and sat down in an old chair. After a moment of simply sitting there he pulled out a few pieces of crumbly paper from the suitcase, fished a pencil out from a pocket and began sketching the church construction idly, as he remembered it, and doing some calculations on the structure to relax.

Since it was all still there, perhaps the painting or even the building could be used in some way. It would be a shame if it was to simply be used for petty worship to undeserving gods.

[the_druid_droid]

“Oh, Tessen - while you’re here, I should fill you in on what happened back there. I did promise to explain, after all.” Turing pulled out the scrap of paper Slade had passed to him and held it out for the other mage to examine.

“You see, the fight back there wasn’t really a fight; it was a coverup. From what Slade said before he attacked me, I think they were aware that their operation was being observed and so they couldn’t just come out and admit to being dissatisfied.” Turing paused, looking thoughtful, before he added, “I suppose it could still be some sort of trap, but the information I got from Errant suggests they’re sincere. To be honest... that was one of the reasons I wanted to stay and meet Cyprus in the first place; I’m in the business of redemption in this city, after all.”

[Anarion]

"Oh, but then, why did she hurt Amun so badly? I mean, it was strange when Cyprus spit like that. I thought she would know better. And she didn't dispel my shield either, so it didn't hurt when I fell. But Slade hit you pretty hard, I thought he nearly knocked you out. *She beams* Oh, but that means we really can help them, we just have to give them a chance to get away, a way to show them that the alternative really works."

[the_druid_droid]

“Well, Amun charged her, and she had to react. If she had been trying, I think Cyprus could have done a lot more damage. Same idea with your shield spell, I think, and the spit is the same as Slade’s blood - a way for us to get in touch when fewer people are watching. We just need someone who can scry for us.” Turing poured himself another finger of bourbon and returned his attention to the view of abandoned skyscrapers and long-dead factories outside.

“I really do hope we can help them. Victory in this city would be even better if we could bring our enemies over while we’re at it...”

[Anarion]

"Yes. It would."

Tessen then goes to lie down.

[the_druid_droid]

When the younger mage departed, Turing considered the picture on his computer screen a while longer, trying to hold on to what he’d felt when he first saw the painting inside the church. The memory remained impressive, but it was only a memory and he found himself hoping that the art would still be there when the church was officially opened.

[the_druid_droid]

Finally, not wanting to bother his friends, but trying to occupy himself until he felt like turning in for the evening, Turing cast Speak with Dead and began to wander around the skyscraper, searching for the ghost he knew inhabited it.

[Thanqol]

Finally, not wanting to bother his friends, but trying to occupy himself until he felt like turning in for the evening, Turing cast Speak with Dead and began to wander around the skyscraper, searching for the ghost he knew inhabited it.

[Because this could be a long conversation, I'm going to say it happens the next day so others have a chance to start their own individual threads as well. There's a lot of people to talk to and things to do in the city and you're entirely welcome to split up]

As Turing reached the top floor, a smooth male French voice rose to greet him.

"Et les squatters vient la recherche et qu'ils ne soient pas au courant de ce qu'il recherche et ce qu'il va trouver."

The floor itself was empty and long abandoned, coated in a thick layer of dust. Where Muriel sat in the Underworld, however, the corporate boardroom was still intact - a fine, hardwood table and tastefully arranged ferns, reeking of wealth. The frenchman, blonde haired and bearded, wearing an archaic blue uniform, had his feet up on the table, throwing darts into the headrest of the CEO's chair.

[the_druid_droid]

[That's ok by me]

Turing chuckled a little as he entered the room. “Ok, well, I got ‘squatters’ at least... Folks haven’t been giving you too much trouble, I hope? We’ve got enough mages on our case as is - last thing we need is Sleepers poking around my liquor cabinet.” He surveyed the room for something to sit on, but since the version present in the mortal world was badly under-furnished, he settled for leaning on his cane.

[Thanqol]

"The usual," said Muriel, throwing another dart. "The homeless. The mad. The odd journalist, who is frequently both. Not an issue."

[Anarion]

[Since Thanqol said we could split up, I'm putting this here. Hopefully time doesn't get too confused.]

The next morning, Tessen rises bright and early, feeling almost totally recovered. After a long shower, she selects a small airplane set on a pink circle as her hair ornament for the day, and gets ready to tackle the day.

There was something that had come up yesterday that she wanted to investigate. A quick google search said that "The Devil's Triangle" generally referred to the Bermuda triangle. And there had been a movie (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0071416/) made about it in 1974 with that exact title.

She wondered if their library might have some additional information on the topic.
[Not sure what to roll here, if anything. Occult+Int? Academics+Int? With or without relevant specialties?]

[the_druid_droid]

Turing nodded and fished out a cigarette, “And what about existence on the other side? Anything in the Underworld happening that bears attention?” He flicked the wheel of his lighter and the cigarette flared into life.

[Thanqol]

[Since Thanqol said we could split up, I'm putting this here. Hopefully time doesn't get too confused.]

The next morning, Tessen rises bright and early, feeling almost totally recovered. After a long shower, she selects a small airplane set on a pink circle as her hair ornament for the day, and gets ready to tackle the day.

There was something that had come up yesterday that she wanted to investigate. A quick google search said that "The Devil's Triangle" generally referred to the Bermuda triangle. And there had been a movie (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0071416/) made about it in 1974 with that exact title.

She wondered if their library might have some additional information on the topic.
[Not sure what to roll here, if anything. Occult+Int? Academics+Int? With or without relevant specialties?]

[For this particular topic, either is acceptable. However, given how a library allows you to make a roll every 10 minutes of study and there's no time pressure I'll just give you this information]

There were a few books found quite quickly that spent a lot of time explaining how the Bermuda Triangle was 'quite safe'; statistically no more dangerous than any other region of the world's oceans. And then Tessen found the notes of the Guardian of the Veil who had ghostwritten those books and things got really interesting.

The Guardian, who had not disclosed her name anywhere, provided a far larger and more detailed list of ships and aeroplanes missing in the region. Plenty were sunk, that was clear, and the Spirits of the Ocean had informed her which ones and where their wrecks were. But about twenty aeroplanes and two ships had simply vanished.

There was, at this point, a dispassionate sidebar nothing that the cabal's Acanthus had gone mad, declared any further investigation 'doomed', and requested reassignment to Russia.

There were other notes, based on interviews with native tribes and hispanic settlers. The author notes the total faith of these people in Catholicism. Priests informed the author that "The mark of Jesus has been seen in the sky", and "An angel of fire was seen in the distance, warning of the consequences of sin". The Guardian finishes with the note that this is likely a magical event, and one so powerful that it has inspired belief rather than Disbelief - a great number of the islanders are Sleepwalkers.

The research concludes with a directive from a superior that the matter is not to be looked into, and instructions to cancel a trip to the "magical centre" of the triangle. Instead the area is to be warded and the investigation ended.


Turing nodded and fished out a cigarette, “And what about existence on the other side? Anything in the Underworld happening that bears attention?” He flicked the wheel of his lighter and the cigarette flared into life.

"It is routine, my friend. Of all the things that happen in this corpse of a city, the corpse itself seems safe at least," Muriel said, producing and lighting a pipe of his own.

[Anarion]

Tessen absentmindedly curls a bit of hair around her finger while reading. Clockwise, counterclockwise, clockwise, counterclockwise.

The artist had been so clear about the devil's triangle...clockwise
But, it sounded so dangerous...counterclockwise
But then, it was obviously magical and important...clockwise
Although, surely the guardians of the veil wouldn't close it, if it wasn't important that it stay closed...counterclockwise
An event of magic capable of creating belief instead of disbelief. The Silver Ladder needed something like that...clockwise
But it was so far, and so much hassle to try and get out there...counterclockwise.

Tessen shut the books and realized that she had quite nearly pulled out the strand of hair, so tensely was she pulling on it. She quickly put them away, and decided to go out and take a walk, to clear her head. No point doing anything now. It was too far, and if it was really important, she was sure it would come up again anway. That was how fate magic worked, right? Maybe after she had a little money of her own, they could afford tickets to fly down there, and then she would bring it up.

She double-checks to make sure she's still getting calls on her skylark number, and then heads outside for a stroll.

[Thanqol]

There was someone watching the building. Really badly. He was a late middle age guy who was sitting at the bus stop across the road and pretending to read a bible. He was constantly shifting and looking around, and he was dressed too nicely for the neighbourhood. If approached, he quickly stood and hurried away.


No calls came in. It was a bit early to hope.

The streets had a certain amount of activity to them; people passing around and going about the business that kept Detroit basically functioning as a city and not collapsing into total anarchy.

[the_druid_droid]

“In that case,” Turing said with a smile, “it's my turn to amuse you today. I have a fairly interesting story about how I met a Prophet and two Seers, all in the same day, and managed to survive to tell the tale, if you want to hear it.”

Turing shifted to leaning against the wall, reflecting that the cabal really needed to work on furnishing important rooms with more non-ectoplasmic furniture. He was too old to be standing around all the time.

[Anarion]

Tessen decides to leave the man alone. He seems to be trying so hard, she wouldn't want to upset him, even if he is doing a bad job. She thinks maybe she'll come back via the other side of the street, and see if she can get close enough to talk to him without him noticing.

[Anarion]

Tessen strolls a few blocks near the river, then reaches the bridge and decides to cross over to Belle Isle. It always struck her as being so beautiful. A whole island park with museums, an aquarium, and a conservatory of flowers right in the middle of a river. It was like a solid core of human potential, a sign that people would make beautiful things anywhere. She tried to ignore the fact that people would also deface beautiful things anywhere as well.

She extended her senses more broadly across the island, trying to listen to all the conversations and ambient noise, children playing, businessmen trying to use the more cheerful setting to close a deal, construction going on near the aquarium as a foreman radioed repair instructions to his workers.

She hadn't thought to do this before, but she decided to scribble "Belle Isle" in her notebook, perhaps hoping for a sign of Detroit's future resurgence.

[Thanqol]

“In that case,” Turing said with a smile, “it's my turn to amuse you today. I have a fairly interesting story about how I met a Prophet and two Seers, all in the same day, and managed to survive to tell the tale, if you want to hear it.”

Turing shifted to leaning against the wall, reflecting that the cabal really needed to work on furnishing important rooms with more non-ectoplasmic furniture. He was too old to be standing around all the time.

"Oui? Sounds intense. Maybe then I shall tell you the story of how I single-handedly sunk a British man o'war with naught but my wits, my sword and eighteen shillings," said Muriel, feigning disinterest. He wasn't particularly filled in on wizard politics in general, beyond a vague understanding that wizards could do strange things to ghosts and were probably to blame for everything.


Tessen decides to leave the man alone. He seems to be trying so hard, she wouldn't want to upset him, even if he is doing a bad job. She thinks maybe she'll come back via the other side of the street, and see if she can get close enough to talk to him without him noticing.

There were some nice shops around here. An old, French store specialising in pricey wines, cheeses and chocolates was barricaded behind thick iron bars. Polish bakeries stood peacefully next to filthy nightclubs and adult goods stores. A nearby skyscraper had used to be a Salvation Army refuge (http://www.detroitblog.org/?p=466) building. It had been filled with junkies, alcoholics and ex-convicts even before it had closed. After the charity closed it's doors, the previous denizens just broke the locks and let themselves back in - a classic case of the inmates taking over the asylum.

Belle Island was a much nicer locale, quiet and beautiful and relaxing. But when it's name was scribbled in the notebook, the answer was "Its design was never realised and its power never unlocked."

[Anarion]

"Unrealized design?" Tessen wonders aloud to herself. What could have happened here? Then she remembers that she can check herself. She walks over to one of the monuments, a great fountain, and checks the plaque nearby. It says
"Levi L. Barbour Memorial Fountain
Marshall Fredericks was the sculptor, this statue was particularly important to him because it was the first major competition that he won. It was done in 1936 and dedicated 1n 1937. The gazelle is in a pose known as 'wheeling.'"

Tessen chants quietly, hoping to avoid any notice, and casts a spell.
[cast postcognition to see what happened when the statue was completed in 1936. Roll needed yes/no, if yes dice pool and penalties? My base for the postcognition rote is 9 dice, modified to 11 due to use of high speech.]

[Thanqol]

[Time actually operates on the same rules as Space - it doesn't matter how far back you're looking as it does how connected you are to that moment in time. You are more connected to the memory of your first kiss ten years ago than the half hour you spent waiting in line at the DMV last week. Statues, as such, have a great connection to the moment when they were put up but not many others]

Unfortunately, the vision didn't seem particularly useful. Just a group of workmen putting the statue in place, dusting it down, and walking away.

The city felt brighter then, though. Stronger. Healthier. There was only a narrow look at it, but this was a time before that emptiness in the sky and the fall of the city.

[Anarion]

Interested, but also a bit dissapointed, Tessen wanders the island trying several different statues and buildings with various dates.

The bridge to the island, completed in 1923 and restored in 1985.

The Flynn Pavilion, completed in 1949

The Nacy Brown Peace Carillion Tower, dedicated in 1940

The Peacock sundial, presented to the city of Detroit in 1927

The Children's Temperance Fountain: built in 1910 and restored in the early 1960s (dissapointingly, it doesn't list an exact date)

The Newsboy fountain, built in 1892

[By the way, I'm pulling off this page. (http://www.belleisleconservancy.org/explore-the-park/structures-monuments/)]

[Thanqol]

The major problem with this approach was that Tessen was looking for what part of the park's design 'wasn't realised' while she had no idea what parts of it had been realised, let alone at what point the plan had gone awry. She did not, in fact, know anything about the 'design' at all. All she got were some snapshots of workers, dedication ceremonies, visions of a city at it's height, but nothing deeply meaningful.

She wasn't able to remotely get an accurate date, but it looked like whatever had changed in the city had changed sometime in the 50's.

[Anarion]

Disappointed, Tessen begins heading back home. She had hoped to catch a dedication speech or commentary of an architect explaining some of the plans for the park, but no luck. Still, narrowing down whatever happened to this city to the 1950s was helpful, she supposed. It would at least be a bargaining chip with the Consilium. She wonders to herself where she could go to find out about the original plans for Belle Isle.


On the way back, she tries to take a stealthy approach to where the man had been waiting, hoping to get close enough to greet him without scaring him away.
[dex+steath I presume? Penalties?]

[Thanqol]

Disappointed, Tessen begins heading back home. She had hoped to catch a dedication speech or commentary of an architect explaining some of the plans for the park, but no luck. Still, narrowing down whatever happened to this city to the 1950s was helpful, she supposed. It would at least be a bargaining chip with the Consilium. She wonders to herself where she could go to find out about the original plans for Belle Isle.


On the way back, she tries to take a stealthy approach to where the man had been waiting, hoping to get close enough to greet him without scaring him away.
[dex+steath I presume? Penalties?]

[Dex+Stealth, opposed, -3 because he's twitchy and specifically looking for you]

[Anarion]

Tessen spends one willpower on the roll because she's curious enough that she wants to get to this guy.

[[roll0]
10 again=8. 3 successes.]

[Thanqol]

The old guy was not good at this. Getting closer, he looked like some kind of priest - there was a white collar slightly visible under the Totally Inconspicuous brown overcoat. He was balding, a deeply lined face, and generally had the kind of dull air of Someone's Dad about him. The bible he was reading was filled with hundreds of brightly coloured sticky notes and highlighted passages. Looking over his shoulder, there was even a lot of incomprehensible margin scrawl in blue pen.

He muttered under his breath as he kept his vigil on the front of the building.

[Anarion]

Tessen also (silently) puts up supernal vision before the man sees her, just in case this person is enchanted in some manner.

[Thanqol]

There was the vague resonance of Awakened magic around him, but it didn't feel like either Pentacle or Seer. It didn't feel like much at all, really. There were no active effects right now though.

[Anarion]

Tessen does two things at the same time. First, she puts her hand on the man's shoulder. This is ostensibly to get his attention, but she puts her hand down firmly enough to hold him if he tries to get up immediately. Second, she says to the man
"Excuse me sir. I was out walking and thought you looked lonely. Would you like some company?"

[Thanqol]

"Oh Lord, why do you test me so?" muttered the priest, closing the bible. His right hand started to reach inside his jacket, and he said in a louder voice, "Be on your way, bride of Satan. I have nothing to say to you."

[Anarion]

"B-bride of Satan? Why would you call me that? I've tried to do good for people my whole life. I'm also still a...virgin." *blushes*

[Thanqol]

The priest looked directly ahead, jaw moving slightly as if he was imagining some kind of argument. After a moment, he said, "You know perfectly well what you have done. Leave."

[Anarion]

That gets a bit of a rise out of Tessen. "Sir, you look to me like a priest. Isn't it your job to help people redeem themselves before God? If you think I've done something wrong, it's your duty to tell me and help me fix it. Anyway, I don't even know who you are, and I'm not sure how you seem to know me."

[Thanqol]

The priest got to his feet. "I have nothing to say to you, witch," he said, and started to stomp away.

[Anarion]

Tessen follows him. "Wait, just wait a minute. We obviously got started off on the wrong foot. My name is Tessen. It's a pleasure to meet you. What's your name?" *She puts out her hand as if to shake his.*

[Thanqol]

The priest grit his teeth and ignored her, continuing to walk directly forwards.

[Anarion]

Tessen keeps walking with him.

"Sir, you're being incredibly mean right now. You were sitting all alone when I left, and you were still sitting there all alone when I came back, and I simply came up to you because you looked lonely. Apparently you weren't and you know who I am, so I think I deserve to know who you are and what you were doing apparently watching for me."

[Thanqol]

The priest continued to walk and ignore her, doing his level best to keep his composure. He was vocalising slightly and unconsciously, muttering something about "knew this would happen" and "she'll give up soon".

[Deadly]

Cleaning clothes and tending his wounds didn't leave Amun with much to do but idle around the building for the rest of the day. Normally he would much rather wander about the city, but sometimes you had to put up with things like this. At least he had the Hallow and his calculations of the Church construction to keep him from going mad with boredom.

[I assume Amun finds nothing of particular note about the Church construction based on his memory and calculations? Nothing strange about how or where it was built or something? Let me know if I need to roll something.]

The next day he had had enough of that and decided to get out, hoping his wounds wouldn't bother him too much. He needed to collect the money for Turing, at least, and after that he could probably find something else to do around the city. There was always something.

He left the skyscraper and took a turn, wandering along the lake side. Everyone wanted to live with a view of a lake or the sea and few could afford it, or at least that would be the case in most places. Detroit had a great deal of other factors affecting where people lived now. His broker had a great view from his office of lake St. Clair near Belle River.

[Anarion]

"I dont plan to give up at all. I use to teach in this city y'know. I'm practically the champion of getting through to people that try to ignore me."

[Thanqol]

As Amun stepped outside, he was stopped by an extraordinarily attractive young man. He had crystal blue eyes, a perfectly tailored suit, beautiful brown hair and a million-dollar smile. He was the kind of pretty that didn't seem to happen outside of the silver screen. He was holding two cups of coffee. "Hey, handsome. You seen a grumpy old guy around here? Yay tall, brown overcoat, Bible done up like he raided a kid's arts and crafts supplies?"


"I dont plan to give up at all. I use to teach in this city y'know. I'm practically the champion of getting through to people that try to ignore me."

That looked like it made a real bad reaction. The priest's face hardened into a scowl and he started walking faster, even though it evidently hurt him to do so.

[Deadly]

Amun raised an eyebrow. Handsome? That was definitely a new one.

"Can't say I have." He gave the strange ... stranger a fascinated look. "Might I ask who you are, good sir?" There was usually a reason someone was looking for someone else. And often enough that reason gave the other man a good reason in turn to not want to be found.

[Thanqol]

"Victor," said the beautiful man, deftly juggling both coffee cups into one hand so he could offer his other to shake. "Well, if you see him, tell him for me his coffee's getting cold. I'd appreciate it."

[Deadly]

[Need I roll anything to sense what's going on?]

"Amun," Amun said, shaking the hand. He looked around. "Sure, I'll let him know if I see him."

[Thanqol]

[What do you think is going on? This guy seems legit so far]

"Great. Thanks," said Victor, walking over and sitting on the park bench vacated by the priest and setting the spare coffee down next to him. He slouched languidly, looking up at the skyscraper and whistling.

[Anarion]

Tessen shrugs and quickens her pace to match the priest's. "So, where are we going in such a hurry, sir?"

[Thanqol]

[If you're seriously going to Pinkie Pie this guy until he gives up, what we're going to do is roll contested resolve to represent each half hour of walking. First one to fail the roll gives up first.]

The priest muttered something that sounded like "Away" and kept walking.

[Deadly]

[What do you think is going on? This guy seems legit so far]

"Great. Thanks," said Victor, walking over and sitting on the park bench vacated by the priest and setting the spare coffee down next to him. He slouched languidly, looking up at the skyscraper and whistling.

[Yeah, he does probably seem entirely legit to Amun. Some little detail might be off, though. Just asking because he definitely doesn't seem legit to me :smalltongue: His exceptional looks also make him stand out]

Amun watched him, wondering if he should have asked if he could spare a coin. The man looked like the kind of person who wouldn't say no, but also like the kind of person whose coins came with a long and tiring tirade about the value of getting yourself a job. Amun decided he wasn't that desperate yet and turned around.

As he often did when wandering the city, Amun opened his mind to the many impressions that lay hidden to normal vision, looking at the flow of the city as he resumed his walk. There was often something new to find, a resonance here, a resonance there, fascinating things he hadn't noticed before on his walks or which hadn't been there last time he came by.

An impulse took him and he turned to look at the man again. How many people genuinely looked that good? Perhaps here was one of those interesting little things.

[Supernal vision.]

[Anarion]

[If you're seriously going to Pinkie Pie this guy until he gives up, what we're going to do is roll contested resolve to represent each half hour of walking. First one to fail the roll gives up first.]

The priest muttered something that sounded like "Away" and kept walking.

[Would it help if I RPed some of it? Because I can do a mean version of her Picklebarrel Kumquat bit only about organized religion and the existence of god. Tessen's resolve roll. [roll0]]

[Thanqol]

[He is Striking Looks 4 and wearing a tailored suit in downtown Detroit, that's plenty cause for suspicion]

There was a significant magical residue about Victor's body, a taste like coffee and chocolate and sweat. It felt Awakened, though there weren't any spells on him right now.

[Thanqol]

[Would it help if I RPed some of it? Because I can do a mean version of her Picklebarrel Kumquat bit only about organized religion and the existence of god. Tessen's resolve roll. [roll0]]

[Sure, extra dice will be based on how annoying/detailed/lengthy/convincing your patter is]

[Anarion]

[Sure, extra dice will be based on how annoying/detailed/lengthy/convincing your patter is]

[You asked. I'm going to spoil this to avoid hurting everyone else's eyes.]

"Well, sir, since you don't seem to want to talk to me, I hope you won't mind too much if I talk to you. Anyway, I studied a lot of literature in college, I really liked Hemmingway in particular. And he always seemed to me to have a particular image of god. I think you're a priest, so you would appreciate that kind of thing maybe, y'know? But anyway, Hemmingway had this image of people being able to find their own peace, particularly if they could get away from things, like all the chatter and noise of the city. He thought that if people could just find some peace and quiet, they would maybe be able to find god, or at least some sense of internal peace. And really, that's kind of what I think God is anyway. Because religion tells us that God helps those who help themselves, so it seems like going out and trying to find your own sense of peace and self would be the best way to find God anyway because that's helping yourself. But it seems to me that you're being kinda mean about this whole thing, not even talking to me. A priest is supposed to help people. They confess their sins, and then you help them redeem themselves by telling them what to do to get better and to receive forgiveness in god's eyes. That's kind of the whole thing with Catholicism anyway, right? That Jesus and Mary and all those saints kind of intercede with God to make him forgive us. It has to be something like that because I studied a bit of the bible and let me tell you, the old testament god was all smiting everything all over the place. He was like "Abraham, you better sacrifice your son or I'll smite you. Jacob, go wrestle with this angel or you'll get a smiting. Soddom and Gamora, oh man those are getting smited so hard. And Cain and Abel, although I guess Cain deserved it because he killed his brother, so if anybody was going to get a smiting it was going to be Cain. But then that wouldn't have happened if Adam and Eve hadn't been smote first, and that one was really stupid. I mean seriously, smiting people because they gained knowledge. I think that one's made up personally because gaining knowledge is all about the human soul. That's what I think anyway. That the soul comes to the mortal world and it tries to learn everything that it can and picks up on everything that's happening. Even though it kind of forgets what it is while it's inside most people, it's still learning everything, and then it ascends back up to heaven when someone dies and that lets heaven grow a little bit. What do you think happens to the soul, sir? I don't think the bible really talks about it. I mean, there's heaven and hell, but most of that is from Dante Alighieri, and his description of heaven is nothing but blinding light everyone. "Oh I was blinded by the light of my love, oh I saw an angel and the light blinded me. Frankly, with all the blindness, I think heaven sounds a bit worse than hell really. Well, except for the fire and the brimstone part. Although don't you think it's weird that everyone thinks hell is so fiery, but then in The Divine Comedy, Dante made out that the worst layer of hell was icy instead? And Satan was the coldest of all and Dante had to climb around Satan and through the frozen pools to get to purgatory. Of course, that's just a myth, but since it's the basis for most of the Christian afterlife, it seems kind of relevant. Personally though, I always liked the idea that the world was balanced on the back of a giant turtle. I heard a story once, that there was this scientist, an astronomer or something, and he was talking to a big crowd, telling them all about the big bang and the theories of the universe about whether it would contract or expand and everything. And there was this little old lady in the crowd and she raised her hand and interrupted the scientist. And she said to him "Sonny, I say sonny, that's a bunch of hoohaw. The world is balanced on the back of a giant turtle and that's all there is." And then the scientist, because he wanted to look smug and superior, y'know? Anyway, the scientist says to the woman, with this big smirk, he says "Well miss, what is the turtle on top of?" And then she put up her hand and wagged her finger at the scientist and she said, "Oh, you can't fool me sonny. You think you're so smart. But I'll tell you. It's turtles. Nothing but turtles all the way down."

[Thanqol]

[You asked. I'm going to spoil this to avoid hurting everyone else's eyes.]

"Well, sir, since you don't seem to want to talk to me, I hope you won't mind too much if I talk to you. Anyway, I studied a lot of literature in college, I really liked Hemmingway in particular. And he always seemed to me to have a particular image of god. I think you're a priest, so you would appreciate that kind of thing maybe, y'know? But anyway, Hemmingway had this image of people being able to find their own peace, particularly if they could get away from things, like all the chatter and noise of the city. He thought that if people could just find some peace and quiet, they would maybe be able to find god, or at least some sense of internal peace. And really, that's kind of what I think God is anyway. Because religion tells us that God helps those who help themselves, so it seems like going out and trying to find your own sense of peace and self would be the best way to find God anyway because that's helping yourself. But it seems to me that you're being kinda mean about this whole thing, not even talking to me. A priest is supposed to help people. They confess their sins, and then you help them redeem themselves by telling them what to do to get better and to receive forgiveness in god's eyes. That's kind of the whole thing with Catholicism anyway, right? That Jesus and Mary and all those saints kind of intercede with God to make him forgive us. It has to be something like that because I studied a bit of the bible and let me tell you, the old testament god was all smiting everything all over the place. He was like "Abraham, you better sacrifice your son or I'll smite you. Jacob, go wrestle with this angel or you'll get a smiting. Soddom and Gamora, oh man those are getting smited so hard. And Cain and Abel, although I guess Cain deserved it because he killed his brother, so if anybody was going to get a smiting it was going to be Cain. But then that wouldn't have happened if Adam and Eve hadn't been smote first, and that one was really stupid. I mean seriously, smiting people because they gained knowledge. I think that one's made up personally because gaining knowledge is all about the human soul. That's what I think anyway. That the soul comes to the mortal world and it tries to learn everything that it can and picks up on everything that's happening. Even though it kind of forgets what it is while it's inside most people, it's still learning everything, and then it ascends back up to heaven when someone dies and that lets heaven grow a little bit. What do you think happens to the soul, sir? I don't think the bible really talks about it. I mean, there's heaven and hell, but most of that is from Dante Alighieri, and his description of heaven is nothing but blinding light everyone. "Oh I was blinded by the light of my love, oh I saw an angel and the light blinded me. Frankly, with all the blindness, I think heaven sounds a bit worse than hell really. Well, except for the fire and the brimstone part. Although don't you think it's weird that everyone thinks hell is so fiery, but then in The Divine Comedy, Dante made out that the worst layer of hell was icy instead? And Satan was the coldest of all and Dante had to climb around Satan and through the frozen pools to get to purgatory. Of course, that's just a myth, but since it's the basis for most of the Christian afterlife, it seems kind of relevant. Personally though, I always liked the idea that the world was balanced on the back of a giant turtle. I heard a story once, that there was this scientist, an astronomer or something, and he was talking to a big crowd, telling them all about the big bang and the theories of the universe about whether it would contract or expand and everything. And there was this little old lady in the crowd and she raised her hand and interrupted the scientist. And she said to him "Sonny, I say sonny, that's a bunch of hoohaw. The world is balanced on the back of a giant turtle and that's all there is." And then the scientist, because he wanted to look smug and superior, y'know? Anyway, the scientist says to the woman, with this big smirk, he says "Well miss, what is the turtle on top of?" And then she put up her hand and wagged her finger at the scientist and she said, "Oh, you can't fool me sonny. You think you're so smart. But I'll tell you. It's turtles. Nothing but turtles all the way down."

[Okay, Thanqol's Super Precise modifier calculator:
1: For opening the textbox and seeing that giant block of text.
1: For not using any sort of linebreak.
1: For dissing Dante, who is a hack (http://bettermyths.com/the-goddamn-inferno/).
1: For turtles.

So +4 dice.]

[Anarion]

[Personally, I did find Inferno enjoyable, but the other two books are awful. Beatrice might actually be the worst tour guide in history. [roll0] 10 again is a 3. 2 successes.]

[Thanqol]

[Personally, I did find Inferno enjoyable, but the other two books are awful. Beatrice might actually be the worst tour guide in history. [roll0] 10 again is a 3. 2 successes.]

[That's a tie, it goes to the Player Character after an hour and a half of walking.]

It was a slow and creeping realisation, but eventually the priest was unable to deny the horrifying conclusion that she could keep doing this forever. The unending tide of words from the girl's mouth wore away at the old man's resolve, causing visions to flash behind his eyes of going to bed and having Tessen stand outside his window continuing to yammer.

Finally, the horror achieved physical manifestation. The old priest stopped where he was and shouted, "FINE! I GIVE UP! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" having genuinely forgotten how this unceasing noise-box had entered his life in the first place.

[Anarion]

"Huh? Oh, um. I wanted to know who you were, how you knew me, and why you were sitting outside my building seemingly just waiting there for me."

[Thanqol]

"Because you are a witch, a bride of Satan and an evildoer, and your demon-possessed den of sin is a blight in the heart of this city!" said the priest.

The passerby weren't too unused to a crazy old dude shouting in the street about religious stuff, so they just walked around the two.

[Anarion]

"oookay. Who told you that, and who are you planning to report to?"

[Thanqol]

"I answer only to God," said the priest.

[Anarion]

"Since I don't believe that God spoke to you personally and told you what I look like, and I've never met you before, I'm pretty sure that someone told you about me. Who might that have been?"

[Thanqol]

"Of course you wouldn't believe in God, witch, as much as you throw his name around," said the priest.

[Anarion]

"Actually, I said that I didn't believe God spoke to you. I guess I could be wrong. Are you saying that God actually spoke to you, personally, and told you what I looked like? Actually, that would be sort of a compliment, even if it would make God a peeping Tom."

[Thanqol]

"God is not a - omnipresence - phaw!" the priest choked off mid sentence. "If you must know, I found the cursed building and simply paid attention to who went in and out of it."

[Anarion]

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere. So you found the building. Where did you come from? Actually, what's your name as well, and what church are you a priest at?"

[Thanqol]

The priest almost said "I don't have to answer your questions", but the memory of the past hour and a half washed through him like a chill.

"I am not endangering my home or my flock by telling you their names," he said, "but my name is Father Pritchard."

[Anarion]

"I see." Tessen takes out her notebook and writes down his name. While waiting for the book to take effect, she says "you said you had heard about the building, not who was going in and out of it. So, I'll ask again. Who set you to watching us? A description will do if you lack a name."

[Thanqol]

"Nobody set me to watching your damn building! If you have a problem with divine revelation, maybe you can pray for forgiveness!" said Pritchard in frustration.

The notebook's insight was, "Blinding light must be met with blind faith, even if one has no idea what one is praying to."

[Anarion]

"Actually, I don't, Father. I hope you'll forgive me for being untrusting, but divine revelation is so rare. Here, why don't I buy you a coffee, and you can tell me about your divine revelation, how does that sound?"

[I don't care if I have resources zero, coffee is in the same category as cigarettes and bullets: anyone can afford it.]

[Thanqol]

"You untrusting? You're the one who lives in the demon house! I have walked in the dark places of the city, I know their scent and I have driven out the filth that inhabits them," he almost sounded like a real monster hunter here. "I know the corrupting rot that besets those who dwell there and the false idols they worship, and I know of the dark beasts they call forth. Why should I tell you more than I already have?"

[Anarion]

"Well" *she puts a finger on her chin, thinking aloud* "for one thing, you're a priest, so when someone wants help being saved, you should try and be friendly with them so they'll take your advice. Second, you were spying on me, which is a little bit rude, so it would be nice if you explained some things. On top of that, I want to help people too and you could teach me to do that better. Being secretive and mean just makes it seem like you're hiding something."

[Thanqol]

"Do you want to be saved?" that looked unexpected, "Do you renounce Satan and all his works? Do you accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Saviour?"

That sounded a little... more Hollywood than Priest.

[Anarion]

"Um, I do. Though I've already been baptized, and I never embraced any of Satan's works in the first place."

[Thanqol]

"Oh, right," there was a moment as if he was about to look in his heavily annotated bible for guidance, but quickly put it back in his pocket. "But you do know you are living in a cursed house?"

[Anarion]

"Ooooh, you mean because of the ghost, right? Heehee, he's really quite harmless. I mean, don't try breaking in or anything, but for people that actually live there, he's mostly sound effects."

[Thanqol]

"There's a -" the priest quickly recovered from his surprise. "The ghost is but a guardian for the sorcerers who dwell within! There is no mistaking their blasphemous taint! I know their stench, I have seen what your "colleagues" in the schools have done. And it is my duty to wipe it out!"

There was anger and conviction there. Not focused, not remotely articulate - but genuine.

[Tiki Snakes]

Pulling up in a suitably auspicious seeming parking spot, Jack leant out the window of his Pontiac Firebird and grinned at Amun.

"Morning stranger. Hey, you look like you've had quite the rough night."
He climbed out, his tie loose and his chin prickling with a nights worth of stubble.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say there's a story here. What say you let me trade you breakfast for it?" He paused, casting a glance back the way Amun was looking.
"Friend of yours?"

[Anarion]

"Oh god, the schools." Tessen covers her mouth as she thinks about them. "Father, I used to teach there, and then I left because I could not stand it anymore. I want you to understand clearly. What they have done is deeply wrong, and since I left, I have dedicated myself to opposing them in any way I can. I would like nothing more than to see their taint excised from this city and to restore it to the strength and vibrancy it possessed before the 1950s."

[Thanqol]

"Hm," that was also unexpected. The priest looked caught between rants. "Even so, using the power of the devil only serves the devil, even if you think you are using it for a good cause."

[Anarion]

"I don't use the power of the devil. What's happening in the schools is distinctly different from anything else. As I said to start this conversation, I'm not sure how you heard that my building housed witches, but I believe someone has mislead you. Besides the ghost, but he really is harmless."

[Thanqol]

"Don't lie to me. Divine revelation has shown me clear as day that your building is aglow with sorcerous power and it is my duty to put a stop to it!" the priest said firmly.

[the_druid_droid]

"Oui? Sounds intense. Maybe then I shall tell you the story of how I single-handedly sunk a British man o'war with naught but my wits, my sword and eighteen shillings," said Muriel, feigning disinterest. He wasn't particularly filled in on wizard politics in general, beyond a vague understanding that wizards could do strange things to ghosts and were probably to blame for everything.


“Were the shillings really necessary?” Turing grinned around the cigarette before continuing, “At any rate, I still have to find a way to explain the day’s events to my superiors, since we managed to lose the Prophet and apparently acquired the Seers instead - something I’m sure some of them will be pleased with, while others may decide I’m walking into a trap... Of course, given that one of them could have brought the building down on us at any moment with Celestial Fire, I’m pretty sure they missed their chance vis-à-vis traps.”

[Thanqol]

“Were the shillings really necessary?” Turing grinned around the cigarette before continuing, “At any rate, I still have to find a way to explain the day’s events to my superiors, since we managed to lose the Prophet and apparently acquired the Seers instead - something I’m sure some of them will be pleased with, while others may decide I’m walking into a trap... Of course, given that one of them could have brought the building down on us at any moment with Celestial Fire, I’m pretty sure they missed their chance vis-à-vis traps.”

"Indispensable," Muriel said. "And you saw an enemy defection? Be wary of any man who would betray his own. He will not grow a sense of loyalty just because he is working for you instead."

[Anarion]

"Okay. Assuming for a moment that means more than the ghost, I'm still not lying. I worked for the schools, and I saw first hand what was happening there. I guarantee it's different, it's wrong and broken and...abyssal. Whatever magic is in my building is not like that at all. Besides, I think there are many types of magic in the world and it's not all the same. Many holy people and saints worked miracles in their times."

[Thanqol]

"Don't liken the miracles of the Saints to heathen sorcery," said Pritchard. "A miracle comes from God."

[the_druid_droid]

Turing nodded. “Believe me, I’m wary of all this myself. That’s part of why I want to try and talk to my superiors - they have much more experience in dealing with this sort of thing. At any rate, I’m not planning on pouring out my secrets to them any time soon.”

[Thanqol]

Turing nodded. “Believe me, I’m wary of all this myself. That’s part of why I want to try and talk to my superiors - they have much more experience in dealing with this sort of thing. At any rate, I’m not planning on pouring out my secrets to them any time soon.”

"So if you have it all figured out, why do you tell me?" Muriel asked, sending a puff of ethereal smoke into the air.

[the_druid_droid]

“Well, there’s nothing a former professor loves quite so much as a captive audience,” Turing grinned again, straightening his tie with mock fastidiousness and brushing imaginary cigarette ash from a lapel. “Besides, I needed a practice run at putting the insanity of yesterday into words; the Guardians are not the sort of folks you want to find yourself in front of speechless.”

[Thanqol]

"With traitors, you have two options," Muriel mused, "Bring them over to your side, or keep them as spies in their side until the time is right. By sheltering them, you make them safer but put yourself at risk. Which will you choose?"

[Anarion]

"Of course I defer to your theology, Father. But, I am here with you now, and willing to follow your advice. I would also appreciate if you didn't spend your days watching my building. I assure you, practically nothing unusual ever happens. And I'm sure there are wonderful things you could be using your days to accomplish."

[Thanqol]

"My advice is to leave the building, allow me to perform an exorcism, and rebuild your life a long way away from here. This city is on the brink of destruction, like Gomorrah before it, and you should flee before the Sword of God comes crashing down."

[Anarion]

"No, absolutely not! First, our ghost is nice and I don't want him exorcised. More importantly, I'm going to help save this city, not leave it to rot. The sword of Damocles may be hanging over the city, but preventing its fall is our burden. Abraham failed in Gomorrah. I shall not do so here.

Father, I expect that there is much good you can do around the city. I wish you the best of luck. If you return to my home, I hope it shall be to ask for aid or report on your good works elsewhere. If you are in need, my door is always open. Otherwise, I ask that you leave my friends and me in peace. Whatever sorcery there may be, it's the least of the city's problems."

*With that, Tessen begins striding off, preparing for the hour and a half walk back home.*

[Thanqol]

"Hn! Phah!" Father Pritchard stood in place, sputtering to himself for a few minutes. He then turned and stomped off in the opposite direction.

When Tessen finally made her way back to the sanctum, she'd see the beautiful Victor sitting where Pritchard had been earlier, cup of coffee by his side and languidly staring at the sanctum in between reading from a sleek new copy of Twilight 2.

[Anarion]

"Oh excuse me. This seems to be a crowded bench today. Don't tell me you're here to keep watch on the building too."

[the_druid_droid]

Turing frowned, and took a long drag on his cigarette. “I’m not sure yet. I’m not the only one this concerns - my cabal deserves to be involved in the decision, and my Order has a right to have a say as well. Phenomenal cosmic power comes with its own laundry list of obligations, after all.”

[Thanqol]

"Oh excuse me. This seems to be a crowded bench today. Don't tell me you're here to keep watch on the building too."

"Hm?" the young man tossed the book aside, looked up, and gave a dazzling smile. "Actually, I just got told to wait here. Something about an exorcism."


Turing frowned, and took a long drag on his cigarette. “I’m not sure yet. I’m not the only one this concerns - my cabal deserves to be involved in the decision, and my Order has a right to have a say as well. Phenomenal cosmic power comes with its own laundry list of obligations, after all.”

"You'll forgive me for saying, but this skyscraper doesn't look like the kind of palace someone with cosmic power would live in," said Muriel.

[Anarion]

"Oh an exorcism. Um, he's not going to be coming back. I left him an hour and a half ago and he was heading the opposite way."

[Thanqol]

"Oh. Then would you like his coffee?" he offered the spare coffee on the bench next to him, "It's a bit cold, but I think it's actually better that way."

[the_druid_droid]

“Hah! I’ve got no time for omnipotence that sits on its ass in fancy palaces. I’m here to do things.”

[Thanqol]

“Hah! I’ve got no time for omnipotence that sits on its ass in fancy palaces. I’m here to do things.”

"So are you going to do anything, or continue to monologue at me about things which I do not understand?" Muriel asked archly.

[the_druid_droid]

“Nope, monologue’s over. I was actually going to ask you about something, if you didn’t mind.” Turing stubbed out his cigarette, which had burned down almost to the filter, then lit another.

[Thanqol]

“Nope, monologue’s over. I was actually going to ask you about something, if you didn’t mind.” Turing stubbed out his cigarette, which had burned down almost to the filter, then lit another.

"I have..." Muriel produced a silver pocketwatch and looked at it, "nowhere to be."

[the_druid_droid]

“I wanted to pick your brain about the city - anything you might know about it before it started to die, or even what it was like before things got so bad. I grew up here, but I was young, and wasn’t looking in the right places. Right now, information is what we need before we can take any action that makes sense.”

[Thanqol]

“I wanted to pick your brain about the city - anything you might know about it before it started to die, or even what it was like before things got so bad. I grew up here, but I was young, and wasn’t looking in the right places. Right now, information is what we need before we can take any action that makes sense.”

Muriel looked at him, and then looked at the pocketwatch. "I don't have that much nowhere to be. I have been here since Fort Ponchartrain du Détroit still belonged to the French. Since then it has been burned down four, five, six maybe times? Like me, the city is too stubborn to die properly."

[the_druid_droid]

“Point.” Turing scratched at some non-existent stubble. “For the moment, got any highlights from the first half of the 20th century? The more recent the information, the better chance I might have of tracking down some leads left over in the city today.”

[Thanqol]

“Point.” Turing scratched at some non-existent stubble. “For the moment, got any highlights from the first half of the 20th century? The more recent the information, the better chance I might have of tracking down some leads left over in the city today.”

"You are going to have to be more specific," Muriel said. "I can not summarise the salient events and details of a city a hundred years ago. I recall the parades, the tall buildings being put up, the festivals, the naval invasion of the Island. I remember the Wars and their ends. But I remember all this as an individual on the street, not particularly interested in the sweep of history and not particularly clued in to magical events."

He paused. "I remember the Queen, though."

[Anarion]

Tessen looks at the cup the young man is offering with suspicion. "Um, the last person that was sitting there said that our building was the devil's bride. So uh, I appreciate the offer, but if you wouldn't mind just getting going, I think that would be best. Y'know, since the Father isn't coming back."

[Thanqol]

"The building is the devil's bride?" Victor looked at it.

And he cast a spell. A rather simple spell, and unskillfully - some sort of Spirit Sight. His eyes glowed with green and brown magic, and the scent of chocolate gently wafted through the air.

"I always imagined the devil's bride would be... thinner," he said. "Oh well. It's been a pleasure, miss," he said, standing casually.

[Anarion]

"Hold it. Just, hold on a second. We need to start over. My name is Tessen. You just cast a spell, some variation on spirit sight so you could look at the building. Who are you, and where did you learn to do that?" Tessen's voice rises at the end of the sentence, making it more a statement of curiosity and wonder than any kind of accusatory tone.

[Thanqol]

"I wouldn't be much of an exorcist if I couldn't see ghosts, would I?" said Victor, blinking innocently. "I'm Victor." He offered his hand to shake.

[Anarion]

"It's very nice to meet you Victor. I apologize that we don't actually need an exorcist though. There's only one ghost here, and he's very nice and doesn't need banishing by anyone. In fact, if you tried, I might have to...well...um, I guess I would have to tackle you or something..." Tessen shifts embarrassedly.

[Thanqol]

"Hm. Tempting, but I bruise easily," mused Victor. "Don't worry, I'm not going to force anything. You say he's safe and I believe you."